A Lord’s Kiss by Mary Lancaster EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Mary Lancaster
- Language: English
- Genre: Scottish Historical Romance
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- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
September 1817
London
Given the choice between a London ballroom on Grosvenor Square
and several hours in the most disreputable gaming hell in Seven Dials,
followed by meeting the dawn under the tender mercies of the most
enthusiastic lady plying her trade at Mrs. Denman’s establishment on
Marlborough Street, Ethan Dorrill regretted that the latter had no place in
his future, at least for the next few weeks. Had he known he’d be
blackmailed into prancing about London in tailored clothes on his best
behavior, he’d never have come ashore.
“Family is a right pain in the arse.”
“You said arse. A gentleman does not say arse.”
Ethan turned to find a boy of no more than ten years, a boy who,
frankly, looked a bit familiar, dressed in a miniature version of a man’s
nightshirt. His young etiquette tutor joined him at the balustrade
overlooking the Farnsworths’ ballroom.
“Aren’t you supposed to be down there?” the lad inquired.
“Would you want to be down there?” Ethan propped his elbows on the
carved marble railing and surveyed the kaleidoscope of ladies in brightly
colored gowns and jewels swirling around ribbons of gentlemen in black
and white evening clothes.
The lad raised up on his toes and imitated Ethan’s posture. He
appeared to give every inch of the scene beneath the heavy gilt chandeliers
very careful study. Finally, he pointed at a long buffet on the far side of the
room. A buffet covered with a pristine white cloth, several candelabras, two
ridiculously large flower arrangements, and an array of silver trays bearing
every sort of cake, tart, and sweet imaginable. “I would for that.”
Ethan nodded. “A fair reason. What of the silk knee breeches, and the
stockings, and the jacket and waistcoat, and neckcloth tied so tightly you
cannot breathe? Not to mention the shoes. Still worth the trouble?”
“You’re wearing boots. Gentlemen don’t wear boots to a ball,” his
companion observed.
“True. I never wear shoes. They pinch my feet.” Ethan had to say, this
was the most enjoyable, and frankly intelligent conversation he’d had in the
three weeks since he’d arrived in London.
“A fair reason,” the boy said with a solemn nod. “I never wear
drawers. They chafe my rudder. A gentleman should not have to wear
something that chafes his rudder.”
Ethan choked and loosed a bark of laughter, which had half the eyes in
the ballroom looking up for the source. He stepped back and pulled his
young friend with him.
“A bit of wisdom imparted by your father?”
“No. My Aunt Ellie.”
“Your aunt sounds to be a very wise woman.”
“She’s my Mama’s sister, but Mama died when I was born, and Papa
married my Aunt Ellie, so now she makes all of the decisions a mama is
supposed to make. Papa says life is much quieter that way.” His oration had
been delivered in such a rush, it took a moment for Ethan to sort through
what the boy had said. Once he did, a singular prickle of recognition
clamored in the back of his mind.
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