A Valentine For Christmas - A Regency Novella Read Online Free Page A

evening had just become a great deal more interesting.
    They had a full house at the moment. James was down from Eaton and Edward home from Harrow. Both boys were reasonably au fait with the world – although they would find Miss du Pont to be a wondrous addition, no doubt – but nobody could depend on fourteen-year-old Bardwell or thirteen-year-old Felix to behave as they ought, while Merry, being the youngest, was entirely unpredictable. Anne was more dependable. At sixteen, she fancied herself in love with any likely male who happened across her path (and Charlie was forced to admit that the good looking Lord Valentine was very likely). Not only that but, like Charlie herself, she had read the entire collection of Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels and spent an inordinate amount of time fancying herself as Emily St Aubert or Adeline, depending on her mood. Charlie, being a very sensible eighteen years of age knew that she was no heroine out of a fictional novel. She was her own heroine and, as such, would forge her own adventures.
    ‘ Comment êtes-vous ce soir, mademoiselle? ’
    Miss du Pont eyed him dubiously. ‘ Très bien, merci .’
    Precocious creature that he was, Bardwell could speak several languages fluently, so much so that his tutors had a hard time keeping up with him. Inclined to be delicate, he showed overdevelopment in other areas, specifically his intellect. It was gratifying to his loving family, without doubt, but it also made him difficult. He had a wicked taste for mischief and an unfortunate habit of saying whatever was in his head with no thought for the feelings of others. Such behavior was acceptable in twelve-year-old Merry, who frequently knew no better, but exceedingly uncomfortable in an often brutally honest Bardwell. He was eyeing Lord Valentine with a speculative look that made his sister a little nervous. Fortunately, the soothing presence of their mother had a quelling effect and whatever devilment was going through his head remained there.
    ‘English, I think darling,’ she said comfortably, ‘it’s always more polite to include everybody in the conversation.’
    Bardwell’s lip curled but he shrugged, accepting this ruling.
    Charlie seated herself on a stool nearby, as interested as any of her siblings in the arrival of these two strangers; possibly more so, for good-looking men who were still far from their dotage were a rare occurrence at Brindabella Hall and she was of a marriageable age, after all. And it was comforting to know that the gorgeous creature seated beside him was not his wife. He might, possibly, be possessed of a wife but at least she was not the paragon who was looking around her in satisfaction, clearly delighted to be the object of so much interest. Not, Charlie amended mentally, that she was ever likely to be marrying the likes of Lord Valentine who anybody could see was completely up to snuff in every way, but a girl had to get into practice for the real thing somehow and country assemblies could only go so far. In less than six weeks she might possibly be heading to London. She had hopes of enjoying her first Season if only her Aunt Sophia could be brought up to the mark. In London, Charlie supposed, she would meet all manner of gentlemen like the one before her. At least, she hoped she would. She had managed to convince herself that anything was possible in the capital. Heroes would abound, along with adventures. Such thoughts kept the possibility of homesickness at bay, for she had never been away from home without the comfort of her family before.
    Perhaps Miss du Pont could tell her a little about what to expect? Charlie looked at Miss du Pont and immediately dismissed the idea. With such airs and graces, she seemed extremely unlikely to indulge in comfortable girlish chats.
    His lordship was putting himself out to be pleasant, responding to Mama’s questions with easy courtesy, but she wondered if he was as particular as his cousin. She had to admit, he was