And suddenly the connecting door burst open and Authur strode into the room. There was a look of murder in his eyes.‘I can explain,’ she began.‘You don’t have to explain. I can guess what happened,’ he growled. ‘Stand aside.’ His eye on the pistol, he stepped in front of her. ‘Keep out of the way, My Lady. Go into my room and wait for me there. This will be over soon enough.Archie, get down off the bed and let us settle this once and for all.’‘Authur, no.’ She tried to step in front of him, but he pushed her back. ‘I will not leave you.’ Not while St John still held his pistol and her husband stood before him unarmed.‘Brother, I didn’t expect you so soon.’ Archie arms opened wide and he smiled as he swung his feet off the bed.Authur’s eyes followed the pistol as it veered off target.‘You invade my house and force yourself into my wife’s bedchamber and do not expect that I will find you? The servants have been warned. If they value their jobs, they will tell me of your presence.
Gwen looked down the table at her husband as she had done so many mornings in the past six months and smiled.He was reading his mail, and when he sensed her eyes upon him he took the letter before him and slipped it to the bottom of the stack and out of sight.‘Is there anything interesting in today’s post?’ she asked pointedly.‘Hmm.’ He looked down at his mail and pretended ignorance, but she could see the smile playing at the corners of his lips.‘Something that you don’t want to tell me about?’His smile broadened to a grin. ‘Not yet, anyway.’‘Some part of the great holiday surprise you’ve promised me. No,’ she corrected, ‘have taunted me with for weeks without revealing anything.’‘That would be the definition of surprise, would it not?Something I know which you do not. And which I will reveal to you soon, even though it is still a week to the holidays.’‘How soon?’‘Very soon. Today, perhaps.’‘If I am very good?’His eyes darkened as he gazed down the table at her. ‘You are
‘I do not have much time left’. His mother extended her frail fingers from beneath the bedclothes and patted the hand that he offered to her. Authur Grand, Third Duke of ThornHill, kept his face emotionless, searching his mind for the appropriate response. ‘No.’ His tone was neutral. ‘We will, no doubt, have this conversation again next week when you have recovered from your current illness.’‘Only you would use stubbornness as a way to cheer me on my deathbed.’And only you would use death as a manipulative tool to get me do what you wish’. He left the words unspoken, struggling for decorum, but glared at the carefully arranged scene. She’d chosen burgundy velvet hangings and dim lighting to match heralready pale skin. The cloying scent of the lilies on the dresser gave the air a funeral heaviness.‘No, my dear son, we will not be having this conversation again. The things I wish to tell you will be said today. I do not have the strength to tell them twice, and certainly will not be
He closed his eyes and felt the chill seeping through his blood. He did not want to imagine his brother as a duke any more than he wanted to imagine himself chained to a wife he has no feelings for and starting a family with her, trapped in this tomb of a house. There were enough ghosts here, and now his mother was threatening to add herself to the list of grim spirits he was avoiding.His mother gave a shuddering breath and coughed. He offered her another sip of water and she cleared her throat before speaking again. ‘I did not offer you as a sacrifice, however much pleasure you take in playing the martyr.I suggested that she and the girl visit. That is all. From you, I expect a promise. A small boon, not total surrender. I wouldask that you not turn her away before meeting her. It will not be a love match, but I trust you to realize that in this time and age, love in courtship does not guarantee a long or a happy union. If she is not deformed, or ill favoured, or so hopelessly stu
The front door was large and intimidating, and when she started knocking loudly, Gwen Lewis was surprised that thesound was barely louder than the hammering of the rain on the flags around her. It would be a wonder if anyone heardher knock above the sound of the late summer.When the door finally opened, the butler hesitated, as though a moment’s delay in the rain might wash the stepclean and save him the trouble of seeing to her.She was afraid to imagine what he must see. Her hair was half down and streaming water. Her shawl clung to her body,soaked through with the rain. Her travelling dress moulded to her body, and the mud-splattered skirts bunched betweenher legs when she tried to move. She offered a silent prayer of thanks that she’d decided against wearing slippers or hernew pair of shoes. The heavy boots she’d chosen were wildly inappropriate for a lady, but anything else would have dis-integrated on the walk to the house. Her wrists, which protruded from the sleeves o
She had imagined him waiting for her arrival, as she made the long coach ride from London. He was older than she, and thin-ner. Not frail, but with a slight stoop. Grey hair. She’d added spectacles, since they always seemed to make the wearer lessintimidating.And a kind smile.A little sad, perhaps, since he’d waited so long after the death of his wife to seek a new one.But he did not seek, she reminded herself. Lady Danbury had done all the seeking, and this introduction had been arranged with his mother. She added shy, to his list of attributes. He was a retiring country gentleman and not the terrifying rake orhigh-flyer that Lady Danbury had been most qualified to warn her about. She would be polite. He would be receptive. Theywould deal well together.And when, eventually, the details of her circumstances needed to be explained, he would have grown so fond of her that he would accept them without any reservations . Without warning, the door opened behind her and she spun to fa
‘You promised to marry me, hoping your mother would die?’ She stared back in horror. ‘I promised to meet you. Nothing more. If my mother had died that night, as it appeared she might, who was to know what I promised her? But she lingered.’He waved the paper. ‘Obviously long enough to post an invitation. And now here you are. With a maid, I presume ?’‘Ahhh…no.’ She struggled with the answer. It was as she’d feared. He must think she was beyond all sense, traveling unchaperoned to visit strangers. ‘She was taken ill and was unable to accompany me.’ As the lie fell from her lips, she forced herself to meet the duke’s unwavering gaze.‘Surely, your guardian…’‘Unfortunately, no. She is also in ill health, no longer fit to travel.’ Gwen sighed convincingly. Lady Danbury was strong asan ox, and had sworn that it would take a team of them to drag her back into the presence of the duke’s mother.‘And you travelled alone? From London?’ He asked curiously..‘On the mail coach,’ she finished.
But that’s ridiculous.’ It had slipped out. That was not supposed to be the answer, she reminded herself. It was the goal, was it not, to get her away from scandal and properly married? And to a duke. How could she object to that.She’d imagined an elderly earl. A homely knight. A baron lost in drink or in books. Someone with expectations as low as her own. Not a duke, despite what Lady Danbury had planned. She had mentioned that the Duke of ThornHill had a younger brother. He had seemed the more likely of the two unlikely possibilities.And now, she was faced with the elder brother. A very unhappy and impatient man. He was definitely more than she bargained for.‘Do you find my proposal ridiculous?’The duke was staring at her in amazement.She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. It isn’t ridiculous. Of course not. Just sudden. You surprised me.’She was starting to babble. She stopped herself before she was tempted to turn him down and request that his brotheroffer instead.‘Well? You’ve go