Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
And when the horse sprints past, I am spun on the spot on a gasp from me, and one from her. A gasp too high in pitch to belong to a man. I gather myself, straightening, and watch as the horse races out of the square, and I don’t move until the echo of its hooves is no more. ‘Hell,’ I breathe to myself, scrubbing a hand down my face, looking around me, as if the darkness might offer an explanation. What was she doing here?
‘Frank?’
I look over my shoulder and see Lady Dare approaching with her maid, and quite a vision she is in a blue satin gown, her hair an elaborate pile of precisely placed ringlets.
‘My lady,’ I murmur, scanning the square again, wondering what on earth just happened.
‘Lost something?’
‘Yes, my mind, apparently.’
‘Pardon me?’
‘Nothing.’ I shake my head and move out of the way of any potential carriages that might come this way. ‘Good evening to you, Scarlet.’
‘Oh, we remain on first name terms, do we?’ She pouts, a grin breaking. ‘How delightful. Care to escort me home?’
‘A generous offer, I’m sure,’ I reply, smiling insincerely. ‘But regrettably I must decline.’
‘We must not live with regrets, Frank.’
‘Indeed.’
‘Then I suppose I ought to call upon alternative company.’
‘I suppose you should,’ I whisper, looking back in the direction in which the horse and its rider fled. What, I must ask, was she doing around here? Off her horse?
One might think I am being threatened. Warned.
But why?
Chapter 10
I was totally foxed by the time I made it to my bed, having sunk another few Scotches to try and tame my wild imagination, so when Clara bursts into my room at the crack of dawn and yanks the covers from my body, I am most perturbed. ‘Bugger off,’ I mutter groggily, pulling them back.
‘I will not.’ She once again removes the bedsheets, and this time dumps them on the floor at the bottom of my bed so as to make it as inconvenient as possible for me to retrieve them. I am, in all honesty, surprised she is in here making a nuisance of herself. Has she forgotten I am on her case and will – I will, damn it – pull her back into line.
‘I forbid you to see the stable boy,’ I snap.
‘The Duke is here,’ she says, evading my statement.
I recoil and do a terrible job of hiding it. Christ, has Taya folded under the pressure of her brother’s bad mood and exposed our secret? Did she confess that we nearly kissed? That I was a whisper away from ruining her? ‘And what of it?’ I ask, tentative, mentally wondering if I should be climbing out of the window before my sister’s new, unpredictable, and, frankly, frightening husband tracks me down to my room and murders me in my bed.
Clara smiles. ‘Eliza is with child.’
‘What?’
‘Yes! She’s skipped her courses! I heard it with my own ears.’
I am out of my bed faster than a fox running from the hounds, dashing bare-chested down the stairs to Father’s study, where I find the Duke sitting comfortably in a chair opposite Papa, who looks, and it shouldn’t be a surprise given the ungodly early hour, most sleepy.
‘Frank?’ Papa questions, taking in my half-naked form as Dalton follows me in and sets a tray on the table between them. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Did you forget to dress?’ the Duke asks.
‘Your Grace.’ I ignore both of their questions and casually help myself to some coffee. ‘I’ve just heard the good news,’ I say.
‘Frank!’ Clara yells, and I turn to see her in the doorway, positively raging.
‘Clara, what have I told you about eavesdropping?’ Father says on a sigh, rubbing at his tired eyes.
‘Not to do it,’ she mutters, throwing me a cutting glare that is totally wasted on me.
‘Come on now, dear,’ Mama appears, guiding Clara away. ‘You must perfect your piano piece. Papa is most anxious to hear it!’
The door closes, and I turn to my lovely brother-in-law. ‘Is it true?’
‘It is true,’ Johnny confirms.
‘Then she must take to her bed immediately,’ I declare, starting to pace the rug, my mind spinning. ‘This is wonderful news!’ The best news. I couldn’t ask for better news, for Eliza will now be busy being pregnant and realigning her priorities so that the Duke’s offspring may arrive safe and healthy. ‘Congratulations, Your Grace.’ I smile and raise my coffee cup.
Johnny shakes his head, and I think it might be in exasperation, perhaps for me, I cannot be sure. ‘Most perturbingly, your sister, my beautiful, ambitious, duchess, does not parade enthusiasm as infectious as your fine self, Melrose.’
‘She is not happy?’ I ask. ‘How can that be? She is to provide a boy heir and perhaps many more little lords and ladies for you to enjoy.’ And keep her busy.