AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her eyes grew wide. As wide as they could with her hair pulling them so tight. “But my lord guardian, I thought you wanted me to find the ‘perfect match.’” She took a sip of the drink, wrinkling her nose at the bubbles. “Is that not the reason you have dragged me to this dinner? To find a gentleman to woo me? Dance with me at balls, take me for rides in Hyde Park?”
Campbell moved her along, toward the French doors. “The only ride Lord Chadwick has in mind is…” He ran his finger around the inside of his cravat. “Never mind. Just stay away from him.”
Dinner was announced, and they made their way into the dining room, Bridget on Campbell’s arm. She was relieved to see Lord Chadwick seated across the table from her and a few places down. He might stare at her, but she could ignore him. She really did not want to encourage him, since she’d done so only to annoy Campbell. No doubt Chadwick was one of those rakes who would take what he wanted from a woman and run as fast as possible if there were consequences.
“Good evening, Lady Bridget.” The man to her right appeared to be a couple of decades older than her. His hairline was receding, and his nose was a bit too large for his face, but he had a wonderful smile and something about him that put a person at ease.
“I apologize. I don’t believe we have been introduced.”
He shook his head. “Not yet. But I know who you are, with Lord Campbell on the same committee
with me in Parliament. He mentioned to me that you are his ward and he was bringing you here this evening. I am Lord Hyatt.”
“It is nice to meet you, my lord.” She leaned sideways when the footman reached over to pour wine into her glass. “What committee are you and Lord Campbell on?”
“We are introducing a bill to increase the budget for veterans and their families.”
Bridget took a sip of wine. “How wonderful. I think that is a very good idea.”
“Yes. Lord Campbell was the instigator of the bill.” The man beamed as if he’d made up the bill himself.
She glanced across the table to where Campbell sat a few seats up. He was watching her intently. Now what? Did she have a smudge on her face? Had she drizzled wine onto her gown? Honestly, the man watched her like a predator ready to strike. She smiled in his direction and lifted her glass to him.
To her amazement, he lifted his glass also and smiled back.
Funny sensations fluttered in her stomach, and a flush rose to her cheeks. Confused, she returned her attention to Lord Hyatt.
As Hyatt spoke, she snuck another glance at Lord Campbell as he bent toward the woman next to him to hear her comment. In the candlelight, his aristocratic features were more prominent, the masculine angles of his face giving him the appearance of an ancient warrior. A ginger-colored curl fell onto his forehead, and he shoved it back with his fingers.
“Lady Bridget?”
She turned toward Lord Hyatt, realizing she had not been listening to him. She shook her head. The last thing she should be doing was admiring her nemesis.
Chapter Four
Cam chastised himself for responding to Lady Bridget’s saucy toast. Why am I even watching her? He had no problem with her dinner partner. Hyatt was certainly a respectable chap and one of the men he’d hoped would be interested in Bridget.
“Your ward is a beautiful woman, my lord. ’Tis unfortunate she has such a poor taste in clothing.” Lady Priscilla, the dinner partner to his right, widened her eyes with innocence, but he knew her to be one of the most vicious-tongued young ladies of the ton.
“She is in mourning for her father.” And trying valiantly to resist my attempts to marry her off.
“I shall be happy to refer her to my modiste. She is a marvel, and I’m sure she can outfit her with more fashionable attire.”
Cam again glanced at Bridget, who was now conversing with Lord Stevenson. He was married, but also a man who paid no attention to his marriage vows. Not that such conduct was unusual in the ton, but Cam personally did not approve of it in a married man.
Lady Priscilla continued to chatter on as his thoughts drifted to the subject he rarely considered. Marriage.
Not for him.
His father had been a cold, calculating, abusive man. Nothing Cam did had ever pleased him, and over the years he had received punishments to which Cam would not subject even an animal. Beatings for forgetting to do a chore, missed meals for playing when he was supposed to be studying Latin, and the worst, when Father had thrown the new puppy into the river. Thankfully, a village child had fished the dog out and kept him. Though Cam hadn’t learned that until much later, after he’d cried himself to sleep for days.
Another time, Cam had been left overnight in the dark, damp basement when he’d mentioned his fear of dark places. No amount of tears or begging had swayed his father to open the door. He’d been eight years, and Mother, who had protected him from his father for as long as he could remember, had died by then while giving birth to Maryann.
No. He would never marry and bring children into the world who would have him for a father. Whatever warmth and ability to love he’d possessed at one time had been destroyed by the late marquess. He also enjoyed the idea of the old bastard turning in his grave when the Campbell title he revered so much went back to the Crown for lack of an heir.
A son’s revenge.
“My lord, I believe you have been woolgathering.” Lady Priscilla pouted in a way she probably thought adorable but he found annoying. That was another thing about Bridget he admired. No coyness about her. She was open and honest. If she disliked anything he said, she let him know it.
