AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The very way he scribed his lines is bizarre.” Jemima handed it back. “Line by line, as though it were one of your lists.”
Felicity stared at it. “What a sharp eye you have. I was so dismayed by the content, I paid no mind to the form. I shall give it further attention.” She sighed. “Shall we scramble our way back home—back? Back to the Hall?”
“The time grows late, and I fear I must leave you,” Jemima said. “My aunt will be most cross to have spared me even this long, and the coach has been prepared for me to leave upon the hour.”
“Thank you for walking with me,” said Felicity as she embraced her friend. They began to pick their way out of the park. “I shall return to the staterooms and summon the duke. It is past time I demanded some answers.”
* * *
Dressed in his most ducal attire, down to his ceremonial sash, Alfred made his way to the staterooms. He had received word that Miss Templeton desired his company, in no uncertain terms.
Your Grace, I require your presence in the staterooms no later than the first gong. F
The imperious quality of Felicity’s request intoxicated him. The power that he exuded expanded, and rather than oppressing the footmen he passed on the way to answer his summons, it invigorated them. Never lackadaisical, always keen to please, they went about their work with increased energy, with pleasure—and, dare Alfred say, joy.
His mate’s command was not a challenge to his authority but an assertion of her own. Would she take him to task? He listed his transgressions for his own benefit: kidnapping, general obfuscation, turning tail and running from her query about the children… He did not think he would be reprimanded for leaving her alone the last two days.Alone, in a manner of speaking: he had lain across the doorway in his wolfskin and prevented any and all from disturbing her but for the delivery of trays, which she only lightly touched. He had intuited her need to take in all that had transpired and respected it. Surely that counted for something—perhaps not for the kidnapping, but even so. He would listen to her complaints and then present her with what was tucked in his pocket and escort her to dinner to celebrate their first meal as an officially betrothed couple, and that would be that.
He would champion her and punish her uncle and keep her safe… His most painful memory intruded, reminding him of the last female he had promised to champion and keep safe, all of two years ago, and whom he had failed…
* * *
He had arrived at speed from Dover, and nevertheless just made the gong, his lateness exacerbated by the Lowell Hall custom of formally dressing for dinner. Coburn announced him, and his parents’ latest assemblage of sycophants bowed and curtseyed as he entered the Bassett Room. He received a nod from his father and a reserved smile from his mother and could consider that his warm familial welcome after an absence of a year. While thetonassumed he was doing an endless and indulgent grand tour, sowing his wild oats abroad, he was on the hunt for hisvera amoris, and he would still be on his quest had Phoebe’s letters not become urgent.
He wandered the perimeter of the room, giving the impression he was greeting his parents and exchanging pleasantries with the knots of flatterers who surged forward, but in fact he was reading the mantelpiece.
It had started as a silly game between himself and his sister. She had proclaimed a passion for china dogs, and so he’d commenced sending her the ugliest, most preposterous figurines he could find. As his travel broadened, the variety of statues grew, and in their letters, they had assigned personalities to the little beasts. From the tableaux Phoebe devised over the years, Alfred was able to discern the mood of the Hall.
Looking at the grouping on the mantle, none but he would understand that there was trouble afoot.
The large mastiff that designated their father and the pampered poodle that was the representation of their mother clustered with a foul, hoary hound so grotesque, it seemed to have drool hanging from its frowning mouth. All three had backed an adorable little lapdog into a corner. He spied his own figurine—a cross-eyed, grinning springer spaniel—hidden on a far-off windowsill. He fetched it and joined Phoebe at the hearth.
“Ulrich.” His sister smiled coolly and curtsied; their mother had insisted she do so from the age of twelve, as well as address him by his title. Her honey-colored hair was arranged in the latest style, and her evening attire reflected the latest trends; her light-blue eyes, a match to his, conveyed distress.
“Sister.” They clasped hands. He held up the cocker spaniel. “Your collection has dispersed, hither and yon.”
“Do aid me then, brother, in setting it to rights.”
“It does look ill,” he agreed, and he shielded her from his parents’ gaze as they turned to the hearth. “Who is this loathsome chap?”
“The Marquess of Castleton,” Phoebe moaned through a playful, society smile.
“Damnation.” Alfred squeezed her elbow as if teasing her, but his touch conveyed his alarm. “He has gone through four mates at last count.”
“Behold the prospective fifth.”
“As if I would ever desert you to that.” He set the mastiff and poodle at the opposite end of the mantle, and they both considered the hound. “I will talk to Father and insist that you must wait to wed until I do.”
“Brother,” Phoebe said, laughing gaily. He answered it, long and loud, as she whispered, “You are not the duke; you have no say in my fate. Your search infuriates them, and selling me off to the highest bidder is within their remit.”
He swept the hound from the mantle, and it smashed to smithereens upon the hearthstone. “Clumsy,” he said when the crowd murmured in dismay. As they regarded the shards at their feet, he whispered, “I shall divine a solution. Trust me.”
She nodded and then shone a bright smile up at him, for all to see. “And how goes your quest?”
“Poorly.” He settled his parents’ china dogs even farther away from himself and his sister. “India is next, although I wonder if I am able for a tigress.”
“I confess myself surprised that one of our American friends did not suit. I would find New York quite congenial, myself.”
He raised his brows, and she lowered her lashes. “That is the last resort.” The bell for dinner rang.
