The Sweet and Spicy Regency Collection by Dorothy McFalls

knock on the door, followed by a tittering of laughter.
    “We will speak on this later,” Winnie promised and shifted in her chair while they waited for Portia, their poor overworked housekeeper, to direct their guests into the parlor.
    Lady Iona charged into the room, her apprehensive gaze darting from May to Aunt Winnie. “Why weren’t you present at the Pump Room this morning?” she cried. “You worried me ever so much. Please do tell me nothing is amiss—not after Mamma and Papa’s party last night. It would break their heart to think the festivities caused you any undue harm, Lady Winifred.”
    May rose from her chair, rushed across the room, and clasped her hands with Iona’s to reassure her. “Aunt Winnie was just weary after the late party. So was I, I must admit. The excitement of the past several days is wearing heavily on the both of us.”
    “I should say,” Lady Lillian said as she swept into the room behind her sister. Her thin, snowy white arm was linked with Lord Nathan Wynter’s. The quiet voice she often used lured May to lean in closer and give Lillian her rapt attention.
    An elegant pink gown swished around Lillian’s ankles as she glided across the room toward May. She moved like an angel, like a beautiful, spectral spirit fallen from the Heavens. “You must be out of your head with excitement at the thought of accepting a marriage proposal.”
    “There has been no proposal,” Iona was quick to point out. “There will be none, if I have any say.”
    “Well, you don’t,” Lillian said with a briskness rarely heard outside the Newbury family home.
    Lord Nathan twisted free from Lillian’s alluring clutches and stepped between the two sisters. His superfine navy blue coat matched his flashing blue eyes, and his crisply tailored pants fit like a second skin.
    Iona blinked up at him and swayed, a reaction May found only too interesting.
    “Ladies, please. I have not even had the opportunity to greet our long-suffering hosts.”
    In the hushed moment he’d created, Lord Nathan reverently greeted Aunt Winnie, sketching a bow suitable for a queen. Winnie appeared quite taken by Lord Nathan’s cheery smile and square, masculine features. Iona sighed, making May wonder whether her friend could be even more charmed by his flowery praises of Winnie than Winnie herself.
    “I hope we won’t be forced to linger long,” the only too perfect Lillian said not nearly loud enough for anyone but May to hear. Lillian and May had never rubbed along well. From their first meeting Lillian had made it abundantly clear how she, like most of society, disapproved of May’s pedigree. Lillian did have the training and manners of a lady, though. She paid her warmest respects to Aunt Winnie.
    The chit even went as far as to sit beside Winnie and begin a long discourse on how she had convinced her father to purchase the extravagant bonnet sitting askew on the top of her head. Three bright pink ostrich feathers bobbed as she prattled on about how she couldn’t do without the feathered bonnet now that she was being actively courted.
    “You see,” Lillian said in that mild voice of hers, making her sound ever so harmless, “the Viscount Evers has set his cap for me.”
    A sharp prick of jealousy turned in May’s chest as she felt drawn to listen.
    “Mamma says I am well suited to be a wife for a man of his social standing. Just think of the balls and teas I will host in his London townhouse. Mamma says I will get along well and become the rage of London. Ladies of the highest rank will be panting for an invitation. But do not fear. I will of course invite you, Lady Winifred, to every single event. You may bring your silly companion along as well.”
    “That is very kind of you, dear,” Winnie said coolly while Lord Nathan choked on a short fit of laughter.
    He winked at Iona, who immediately returned the gesture.
    Such curious behavior. Something devious was definitely in the works between the two. May