Simply Perfect

Claudia strode up the sloping lower lawn until the flower gardens and the terrace came into view again. Then she changed direction and headed toward the orchestra. She needed to calm herself before joining her friends. Her body and mind were seething with unfamiliar, and quite unwelcome, emotions and sensations. She felt like a girl again, totally out of control of her own normally tranquil center. She ought not to have agreed to the boat ride. She actually enjoyed conversing with the Marquess of Attingsborough. He seemed to be an intelligent man, even if he did live an essentially idle existence. But he also happened to be easily the most attractive man she had ever encountered—not to mention handsome—and from the start she had been aware of the dangers of his practiced charm. Except that she had been aware of them on Flora and Edna’s behalf during the journey, assuming herself to be immune. Oh, but she had enjoyed the boat ride—both the exhilaration of being on the water and actually running her fingers through it and the pleasure of being rowed by a personable man. She had even indulged in a little romantic daydreaming if the truth were known. There she was on a warm summer afternoon boating on the River Thames with a gentleman with whom she had shared laughter both last evening and this morning. She had consciously liked him. Until he had spoken those words. …romance does not always have to be sensible. She knew he had meant nothing by them. She knew he had not been flirting with her. But suddenly fantasy had not remained buried deep in her thoughts but had obviously shown openly on her face for a fraction of a moment—but quite long enough for him to notice. How horribly, utterly humiliating! She looked around for a seat on which to relax while listening to the music but, seeing none, she stood on the lawn close to the rose arbor instead. And if she had not been feeling raw enough with embarrassment—for his silence during the return to shore had clearly indicated that he had noticed—there had been that introduction to the Earl and Countess of Sutton and Miss Hunt. She bristled at the memory. They had behaved just exactly the way she always expected the aristocracy to behave. Nasty, superior lot! Yet all three of them probably had nothing but fluff between their ears. And money to burn. She despised herself more than she did them for allowing herself to be upset by them. She applauded politely with a few other guests as the orchestra finished playing one piece and arranged its music for the next. And then Claudia smiled despite herself. The very ferocity of her indignation amused her. All three of them had appeared to be sniffing the air as if they smelled something nasty. But really they had done her no harm at all. They had done her a favor if anything. They had given her an excuse for getting away from the Marquess of Attingsborough. She had certainly been in need of one. Indeed, she would still be quite happy to dig a hole in the lawn at her feet and stick her head in if someone would just offer her a shovel. Instead, she headed for the rose arbor. She fervently hoped she would never see the Marquess of Attingsborough ever again. Some holiday this was turning into!

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