Page 11 of Enslaved to the Seduction of a Lady
“Ignore your Father,” Erica said once he had left. “He is a terror for saying the wrong thing.” She rolled her eyes as she shook her head, and Alison chuckled.
“Lord and Lady Crampton,” the butler announced, and the ladies politely turned and curtsied. They paused in their conversation as their guests walked past, they resumed as soon as they were out of earshot.
“It’s all right, Mother,” Teresa said. “I’ve known him no more than a year, and even I know that already. He means no harm, it’s just his way.”
“She’s right, Mama. Again.” Alison turned to look at Teresa. “You are terribly astute.”
“It’s something you learn, as a teacher, I suppose,” Teresa said with a shrug.
“Oh look,” Alison said, looking ahead of her with a broad smile. “It’s Lady Isabella. Do excuse me.”
Alison sauntered ahead to meet her dearest friend—except, now, perhaps for her sister—and she greeted her with a warm smile.
“It’s so good to see you,” she said. “It’s been too long.”
“Indeed it has,” Lady Isabella said. Her cheeks had been gently rouged, and she wore an emerald-green gown in a delicate silk.
Alison took her by the arm and together they scurried into the main part of the garden, intending for their conversation to be covered by the chatter of others. Alison had been strict with them about the order of play. The more jaunty tunes would begin later on, once their guests had been eased into the evening.
“So, how have you been?” Lady Isabella asked, looking down at Alison. “Tell me everything that has happened since we last spoke.”
Lady Isabella Harding, Countess of Worthing, was a good head taller than her friend and when they shared confidences, she had a tendency to lower her head to be closer. Her tight black curls clung to her head, and her dark eyes sparkled with wit. She and Alison had been friends since childhood and, over time, they had grown as close as sisters.
Now, with the return of Teresa, they had often become a threesome of chattering ladies, but it was Isabella who knew Alison’s deepest secrets.
“I have been well,” Alison said, her words even unconvincing to her own ears.
“And now the truth, please,” Lady Isabella said, turning to look at her.
“It is the truth,” Alison said. “I have been well enough.”
“All right,” she said, smiling wryly at her. “Play it that way if you wish. How is…” she lowered her voice to a whisper and looked around her conspiratorially, “you know who?”
Alison couldn’t stop the edges of her mouth curling into a grin and she looked almost coy. Any mention of Luke outside the stables sent her stomach roiling with excited nerves. She looked around her, not wanting any prying ears to hear her words, and then she whispered to Isabella in furtive secret.
“He is truly as wonderful as ever.” Alison swooned as she spoke, her hands clasped together in front of her heart and her eyes wide with longing.
“Just as I suspected,” Isabella said. “And now for the real question—one I have asked you many times but that I am yet to hear a decent answer to. What are you going to do about it?”
“Oh,” Alison whined, lip pouted. She looked quickly around her again, and lowered her voice even further “What can I do about it? Father would never agree to my marrying the groom, and besides, we have been friends forever. I would hate to lose that because I have done something rash.”
“Rash?” Isabella almost choked with laughter. “You have been in love with the man for years, and you consider telling him such as rash! Alison, my dear, you cannot carry on the way you are. You must try. If you do not, you will always wonder what might have been.”
“And I may end up married to someone I hate,” Alison said, staring wide-eyed into the distance.
“Exactly,” Isabella said, “and that would be a terrible tragedy.”
Around them, the party had begun in earnest. The gardens were now filled with ladies and gentlemen who swept among each other in greeting, eyeing each other with both curiosity and judgment. The ladies each held their fan with their dance cards on, mostly using them against the evening’s warmth and to hide their smiles and laughter.
“But how would I even begin to broach such a thing with him?” Alison asked. “It is surely he who must approach me.”
“Goodness me, Alison. If what you tell me is correct, you and he share everything and you can talk about anything. Yes, it’s true that in normal circumstances you would wait for the gentleman in question to approach you, but these are far from normal circumstances, my dear.”
“That much is true,” Alison said, head tilted in agreement.
“Then why not this as well?”
“Because…” Alison froze, her mouth open with words she could not say, “because. That’s all.”
