Read My Favorite Major (Heroes Returned Book 1) Online

Authors: Ava Stone,Lydia Dare

Tags: #historical romance, #noir, #waterloo, #regency romance, #regency england, #regency, #soldier, #peninsular war, #ava stone

My Favorite Major (Heroes Returned Book 1) (3 page)

Miss Pritchard glanced back him, surprise alighting her face. “Is my accent that pronounced?”

The youthful spirit reflecting in her eyes nearly stole Philip’s breath. How absurd. He was obviously losing his mind. Hadn’t he been thinking how odd Miss Pritchard was? It would be just his luck to have his breath stolen by some strange chit. “I – um – that is, Captain Avery mentioned Wales.”


Did he?”

Philip nodded, wondering why he felt so awkward all of a sudden. It was almost as though he’d never spoken to a woman before. The sooner he returned to Papplewick, the better.


You were in the 45th Foot with Captain Avery?”

Philip nodded again, for lack anything coherent to say.


My brother was in the 69th Foot.”


Indeed?” He tilted his head to the side, as though he could somehow understand her better if he peered at her from a different angle. “And how is he finding civilian life?”

Miss Pritchard smiled weakly. “I’m afraid Alan did not return to us.” Then she turned her attention once again to the dance floor.

What a bloody fool he was. Philip wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. What an awful thing to say to the girl. He’d seen so much death around him the last few years, how had he not considered the possibility her brother was among those forever lost? “I am sorry,” he offered.

But she merely shook her head. “It’s certainly not your fault, Major Moore.”

And suddenly, the idea that London was a change of scenery for her made complete sense to Philip. She must have been close to her brother, or in the very least missed him dearly. It put into perspective his loss of Olivia. He’d always love Olivia, but if she was happy even married to that bastard husband of hers, at least she was still alive. He’d never wish her ill. “I am sorry, all the same.”

She flashed him a grin and Philip’s heart lifted just a bit. “You are kind, sir.” And then the color that remained on her face completely drained away. “Heavens!” she whispered in horror.

What in the world was Geoffrey Mason doing
here
of all places? Amelia slid behind Major Moore, hoping to use him as a shield while she plotted an escape. Plotting was deucedly difficult however, when one’s head was spinning. Dash it all! Geoffrey must be looking for her. There wouldn’t be any other reason for the blackguard to be in London.


Are you all right, Miss Pritchard?” The major turned on his spot to face her, a frown marring his handsome face.

Amelia stared up at him. What she wouldn’t give for Captain Avery to be standing before her instead. The jovial captain could be trusted to help her out of this predicament, or at least she thought so. But Major Moore, who was so stoic and serious? Probably not. Amelia bit her bottom lip as she peered tentatively around the major to see if her perfidious former fiancé had spotted her.


Miss Pritchard!” the major said again.


Shh!” Amelia hissed at him. The last thing she needed was for the blackguard to hear her name over the din.


What is going on?” Major Moore demanded.

She breathed a sigh of relief, as Geoffrey Mason glanced across the ballroom in the opposite direction. He must not have seen her or his eyes would have been glued to her position. But it wouldn’t take long for him to find her, especially if Major Moore kept muttering her name. “Please don’t make a scene.”


Make a scene?” Thankfully, he lowered his voice. “I think you’d better tell me what is going on, Miss Pritchard.”

Amelia glanced back up at the striking major and almost found herself lost in his dark, honest eyes. But telling him about her unfortunate situation with Mr. Mason was not the best idea. Honestly, telling anyone was not the best idea, not even the jovial Captain Avery, had she been fortunate enough to be standing with him instead. “Thank you for your concern, but I can take care of myself, sir. Just please don’t say my name.”


Now see here…” the major whispered, but Amelia didn’t hear anything else.

Someone, thankfully, caught Mason’s attention on the other side of the room and as soon as her one-time fiancé began walking in that direction, Amelia knew it might be her only chance to avoid the fiend. “Excuse me,” she muttered. Then Amelia lifted the hem of her skirts and dashed for the closest exit, right outside into the Clayworths’ small garden.

She breathed a sigh of relief to have escaped the ballroom but cursed her bad luck for ending up outside in the process. How could she possibly get back inside without catching anyone’s attention? Things could have been worse, however. Mason could have seen her and caused an unfortunate scene, which he would most certainly have done. She truly should focus on the fact that she had escaped the blackguard, at least for the moment.

Blast! What was he doing here? Certainly he didn’t think she would change her mind? He had to know her better than that. He had, after all, known her all her life. Of course the same could be said for Amelia. She’d thought she’d known Geoffrey Mason all of her life, thought she knew what sort of man he was. But it had all been a façade.

How had he found her? Had Papa told him she’d come to London? Possibly. After all, Papa hadn’t been happy with Amelia’s decision to cry-off, but he’d said he would support her nonetheless. Had he changed his mind on the matter? Was he still being duped by Mason, just as she had been for so many years?

Well, it made no difference. Even if Papa
had
changed his mind, Amelia would never change hers. She’d sooner hop a frigate to America and live with the native savages than marry Geoffrey Mason. She’d rather stow away to India or even sail to China than marry the black-hearted, contemptible, scurrilous Geoffrey Mason.

Still, it would be easier not to have to see him. She
had
, after all, loved him once. No. Amelia shook the thought away. She’d loved the man she’d thought he was until she’d realized the truth about his nature.

Philip stared after Miss Pritchard’s departing form, his mouth agape. Damn it, she made no sense to him whatsoever. Was there a more unusual chit in all of London? He somehow doubted it.

Then he noticed a gentleman, out of the corner of his eye, darting in his direction, towards the garden door Miss Pritchard had just vanished through. Was she running from this fellow? Her drastic change in demeanor certainly suggested the possibility.

Philip lifted the tip of his cane off the ground and, at the last moment, thrust it in the man’s path, sending the fellow sprawling across the floor. A few people nearby gasped, but for the most part the
accident
went unnoticed in the crowd.


I am so terribly sorry,” Philip said as the man picked himself up from the floor. He waved his cane back and forth. “I’m afraid I’m still getting used to this. Are you all right?”

The fellow dusted his hands on his trousers and grimaced. “I’ve taken worse spills before. No harm done.”

As the man’s Welsh accent reached Philip’s ears, he knew his estimation must be correct. Miss Pritchard was most definitely hiding from this man, whoever he was. The look of horror on her face flashed in his mind, and Philip decided in that very momet to help her evade the fellow, at least for the time being.

He offered his hand to the Welshman in greeting. “Major Moore. Again, I am terribly sorry.”

The man shook Philip’s outstretched hand. “Geoffrey Mason. Think nothing of it, Major. Accidents happen.” Then he looked towards the garden door. “The woman you were speaking with, did she go outside to get a breath of air?”


Miss Danvers?” Philip asked.


Danvers?” Mr. Mason echoed, his eyes returning to Philip.


Olivia
Danvers,” Philip clarified. Damn it, he was no good at subterfuge. Even in this, Olivia’s name was the first one to pop in his mind. At least he hadn’t said Olivia Danbury. Who knew what Kelfield would do if he blackened his wife’s name? “Do you know her?” he asked, hoping his light tone would distract the Welshman from his purpose.

Mr. Mason shook his head. “No. I thought she was someone else.”

Philip chuckled. “She does get that a lot. So many blondes in London these days. Quite the fashion, from what I hear.”


I see.” Mason’s eyes strayed back to the garden door. “Well, I think
I
need a breath of fresh air. Quite stuffy in here. Do excuse me.”

Philip placed his cane in Mason’s path. “I wouldn’t go out there if I were you.”

The Welshman frowned at Philip, his eyes suddenly flashing with irritation. “I don’t believe I need your permission, Major.”

Philip shrugged. “A friend of mine was outdoors awaiting Miss Danvers. If you interrupt their
tête-à-tête
, he’ll find himself leg-shackled to the chit, and he won’t be very happy with me for letting you past.”

Mason’s frown deepened. “Did you trip me on purpose, Major Moore?”

Philip dipped his head. “I had to stop you somehow, and I don’t move as quickly as I once did. I do hope I didn’t hurt you.”


You’re certain it was Miss
Danvers
who escaped into the garden?”


Of course,” Philip lied. “Known her all my life.”


I’ll take you at your word then.” Mason sighed, looking at once forlorn.

Philip hoped his fabrication was for a good cause. He didn’t make a habit of prevaricating on a regular basis, but some madness had urged him to do so this time. And he would make certain Miss Pritchard explained in great detail what exactly was going on with Mason.


Do you happen to know Miss Amelia Pritchard?” the Welshman asked.


I believe she is a cousin of the Earl of Clayworth, is she not?”


That is my understanding.”

Philip glanced across the sea of people in the ballroom. “Well, if she’s here, I haven’t seen her this evening.”


So many blondes in London these days.” Mason smiled tightly.


Indeed,” Philip agreed.

The Welshman tipped his head in farewell and then walked the perimeter of the ballroom once more, his eyes darting from guest to guest in his apparent search for Miss Pritchard. As soon as Mason made his exit, Philip watched the doorway to make certain the man wouldn’t return a half second later. When he felt the coast was relatively safe, he vanished through the garden door as quickly as his bad leg would allow, using his cane for support.

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