Page 39 of A Naughty Proposal for His Winter Countess
“How long has it been since you last saw them?” Daniel murmured.
“Two years,” Harriet replied.
Holding her close, Daniel asked, “Are you prepared to see them?”
Turning to him, Harriet gave him a steady gaze, while she rested her hand on his arm. “I wasn’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to shrink away. I’m not scared of them anymore.”
“Harriet?” a sweetly-snide voice cut in. “Harriet Bradford, is that you?”
With a small smile, Harriet turned to Temperance, who was resplendent in powder-blue satin gown. The delicate puff sleeve, and its low square neckline trimmed with tiny golden beads drew attention to her bosom.
“Yes, it’s I,” Harriet replied, calmly. “How are you? I’d imagine you’re married by now, so should I say, Lady—?”
Temperance’s face pinched as if she had bitten into a lemon, “No, no, not Lady yet.”
To Daniel’s admiration, Harriet’s expression did not shift from a natural smile, “Sorry to hear that. Daniel, Darling, my I introduce Miss Temperance Nottingham. Miss Nottingham, Daniel Raster, Lord Barkley, my betrothed.”
Bowing, Daniel said, “Pleased to meet you, Miss Nottingham.”
“You as well, My Lord,” Temperance’s voice was light but her face grew more pinched. “If you’ll excuse me.”
She went back to Antoinette, while Harriet turned her back to them. “Are they looking at me?”
“Yes,” Daniel said. “I loved how you faced her, I’ve never seen the act of piling coal on one’s head done so masterfully.”
Taking his hand, Harriet said, “Let’s meet the master of the house, shall we?”
The Marquess Sandhurst was a charming man with a shrewd gaze and dry wit. He seemed very aware of the people gathered for his musicale, and when Harriet mentioned Miss Nottingham’s and deLuc’s names to him, he laughed.
“No need to warn me, Miss Bradford, those two ladies are destined to be spinsters. Two of my colleagues were Miss Nottingham’s suitors, but her father said that nothing but a Duke would be good enough for her. As I am aware, all our Dukes are married—happily so. In that regard, her prospects are to either become a mistress or wait till one is widowed.”
He plucked out his timepiece, “The musicale should be starting now, please, enjoy yourselves.”
Daniel rested a hand on the small of her back as he led her to the music room and to a settee. Professional musicians filled the hall with a lovely aria, sung from a popular opera house. Footmen passed with glasses of champagne and the guests were chatting and laughing.
A few times Daniel caught the two ladies looking at a blissfully ignorant Harriet with narrowed eyes and sneers. Which was why, when he caught them again, he leaned in to covertly whisper in her ear, “They’re looking at you.”
Harriet lifted her gloved hand, the one with her ring on it and patted his cheek, “I know, they’re not that subtle. They would have made horrible spies in ancient world.”
“Really.”
“Well, those women were primarily prostitutes and courtesans, so they would have failed at their primary occupation and completely botched the second,” Harriet said dryly. “Ancient Sparta would have executed then without a by-your-leave.”
The champagne Daniel was sipping nearly shot out his nose, at the thought. He managed to swallow but through his cough, said, “A little warming next time would be wonderful.”
Over the rim of her glass, Harriet smiled.
The musicale ended two hours later and the guests were invited to dinner. Harriet however, asked Daniel to take a walk with her on the grounds. “I don’t think I could swallow a bite with it being sprinkled by a dash of their hateful looks.”
“We can’t stay long,” Daniel replied as he guided her to a back terrace and onto the swept walkways.
“I love winter,” Harriet remarked, holding onto his arm. “It’s so peaceful and still. As if time decides to stop moving.”
“I’d prefer to think that everything’s asleep,” Daniel replied, “to come back better and brighter for spring.”
“That too,” Harriet added.
They strolled to a small pagoda where a small man-made fish pond stood to the side. Daniel went to examine it, noting that it was rigged like a fountain to pull up water and circulate it—when a ball of ice hit him squarely in the back.
