A Disgraceful Miss by Elaine Golden Page A

marquess, which was sufficient to elicit the enthusiasm of every other husband-seeking hopeful in town.
    “Who’s the lucky lad, then?” And why had Julian never heard this before? His heart hammered in his chest, dreadful and steady as a death knell.
    “Lord Bradley Carston, apparently. Do you know him?”
    “I know his family. Bradley’s a bit younger, so we didn’t attend university together. Second or third son, isn’t he?”
    Was it getting hot in here? Julian tugged ineffectually at his high collar, mentally cursing the extra starch his valet used.
    “Second son. Bradley’s been on the Grand Tour, so Angelica’s been biding her time till his return. Won’t take any of the other gentlemen seriously. For which I’m grateful, but my reprieve is nearly done. Rumor has it, Lord Bradley has returned.” Daniel sighed dramatically as he chalked his cue. “And, so, my demise is imminent.”
    Julian’s heart plummeted.
    God, if it were true, then Julian’s life was about to become a misery. Just the thought of Angelica attached to another man was enough to send him into paroxysms of malcontent. But to watch her dote upon one with affection?
    Julian finally swung the cue stick, though this shot wasn’t much better than his last. When Daniel stepped up and quickly cleared the table of the remaining balls, he was relieved. He’d lost the desire to play, too distracted to concentrate further.
    For, he had a secret. Something he couldn’t talk about with Daniel, the man he loved in place of the brother he’d never had and the father who had died just after his birth. Daniel had taught him how to eradicate the nightmares that haunted long after the vicious battles in India had been left behind. By the time Julian had deployed to Bombay with a fresh commission in the army, Daniel had been there long enough to be numbed by it all.
    No, Julian couldn’t—wouldn’t—sacrifice the filial bond that they shared because he was weak.
    Because he was in love with Angelica.

CHAPTER TWO
    The new Burlington Arcade was alight with midday activity. Open for trade only a few weeks, the neat row of shops was already a favored haunt of the most dedicated fashionists. The finest jewelers, milliners, tailors and other vendors of stylish demand were showcased in regimented glass stalls, like so many fine bloodstock at a Tattersalls auction. The arcade was even more pleasing than a visit to Bond Street, for the glazed roof that spanned the wide pedestrian boulevard protected the patrons, allowing for a leisurely stroll despite inclement weather.
    Since the day appeared incapable of producing anything but water in all of its various forms, the arcade had seemed the perfect place to search for a gift. Angelica hadn’t expected it to be quite so busy. The shopkeepers were juggling customers at least four deep, which meant a longer wait than she had the patience for.
    Angelica waved her footman on and left another crowded shop. Perhaps she ought to try Bond Street after all. Surely they’d have something appropriate for Daniel—her father , she reminded herself for the hundredth time. She eyed the ceaseless drizzle of rain at the end of the arcade and hesitated. She was determined, but without a direction on what to purchase, she was more likely to get soaked through than she was to find a suitable gift elsewhere.
    She moved to a tailor’s shop and studied the stacks of brightly colored cravats displayed within the bow window. It wasn’t exactly customary for an unmarried woman to be seen gaping into places where men’s unmentionables were fitted, but there you have it. Angelica had two older brothers— uncles , she reminded herself—that it would be assumed she was shopping for. It wasn’t as if she planned to actually enter the establishment.
    Dismissing the cravats as both too boring and too easy, Angelica peeked beyond the display and into the depths of the shop, desperate for something better. She was almost tempted to pop