AllFreeNovel
Share Us
While he wouldn’t go so far as to describe himself as an entrepreneur or even a businessman, he was acutely aware of the fact that an inheritance didn’t stretch as far as it once had. The great country estates of the past that had yielded enough profit for their owners to live comfortably off of for generations were being chopped up and sold at market price as the world economy shifted from architectural goods to materials made of steel. As his peers–Sandor, Masterson, and Chambers among them–clung stubbornly to the old ways, Ezra had his eye set to the future. Although at the moment, he was unable to see past a stunning blonde with lips that had tasted like heaven and tempted him like hell.
“Would you care for a nightcap in your study, my lord?” Ezra’s butler, a calm, unflappable man of pristine dress and the hanging jowls of a bulldog, held a silver platter already filled with a half glass of brandy.
“Not tonight, Belfort.” Removing his own cloak and gloves–the two footmen he employed had already left for the night–Ezra shoved them unceremoniously into the closet and then leaned heavily against the wall. “Tonight, I’m headed straight to bed.”
“To bed?” said Belfort with a twinge of surprise. “But it’s only half past midnight. Are you feeling unwell, my lord? Should I fetch a tonic, or the doctor–”
“No, no, I’m fine.” Waving off the butler’s concerns, he started up the stairs. Paused in the middle. “Are you of the opinion that I am a wastrel, Belfort?”
Another flicker of surprise, rapidly hidden. “I wouldn’t say that, my lord, no.”
“But you’d say something,” Ezra replied dryly.
“If I were to speak freely?”
He gestured with his arm. “Have at it, Belfort. Do your worst.”
The butler was quiet for moment, and then, choosing his words with precise care, he said, “You are intelligent, my lord. Remarkably so. Were you to apply yourself to hobbies beyond drinking, gambling, and whoring, I should think that your potential would have no discernable limit. But in an effort to diverge your path from that of your father’s, you have purposefully made yourself into the very man that he is not.”
A beat of stunned silence, and then…
“Tell me how youreallyfeel, Belfort.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Bloody hell.”
A dull flush crept up from beneath the butler’s collar. “I apologize, my lord. I should not have–”
“Don’t apologize,” said Ezra, cutting him off. “I asked for it, and you delivered. I believe I’ll take that brandy to my room.” Jogging to the bottom of the stairs, he nipped the glass off the platter and took a generous swill before retreating into the cold, dark comfort of his bed chamber.
“Annabel, wake up. WAKE UP!”
“Wha-what’s going on?” Annabel slurred, weakly batting away the hands that were shaking her by the shoulders. Disoriented, she slit her eyes open a crack and found Lenora standing over her while Eloise and Bridget stood guard on either side, their solemn expressions a sign that something grave had occurred. Her gaze flicked to the window, and when she saw it wasn’t quite yet dawn, the light still weak and pale, her worry expanded tenfold. Everyone knew, that except in cases of dire emergency, she wasneverto be woken before nine o’clock. To come into her room this early, and all together…it could only mean one thing.
“Is it James?” she asked, her heart in her throat she sat bolt upright, knocking a pillow onto the floor. “Has…has there been word? Is he–is he–” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words aloud. Not again. Losing her parents was terrible enough. If her brother was dead, too…
Bridget must have seen the sheen of grief-stricken panic in Annabel’s gaze, for her sister abruptly sat on the bed and grasped her hand. “James is fine,” she said, her tone quietly reassuring. “No news is excellent news, and we’ve not heard anything. It’syouwe are worried about, Annabel.”
“Me?” Annabel blinked at her siblings in turn. Lenora, tall and elegant, with shiny dark hair drawn back from the fine bones of her countenance in a simple twist. Eloise, freckled and petite, her curls a riotous explosion of bright, coppery red. And Bridget, smiling, kind, with wisps of corn-silk escaping her coiffure. “Why would you be worried about me?”
“Because of what happened last night.” Dragging over a chair, Eloise plopped into it and put her stockinged feet on the edge of the mattress. She was wearing a nightdress, its ruffled neckline pressing up against her chin. “We heard everything from Perth.”
“And Perth heard everything from his driver.” The corners of Lenora’s lips tightened imperceptibly. Unlike Eloise, she was already dressed for the day in a burgundy gown with ivory buttons running down the middle and miniature rosettes around the bodice. “When we should have heard it firsthand fromyou, Annabel.”
Last night.
The ball.
Lord Wimplebottom.
Leaving early.
The carriage coming to a sudden stop.
Her gray-eyed Adonis.
Theirkiss.
As the memories of the past eight hours came flooding back, it was all Annabel could do not to dive headfirst under the covers, and it was only because of the time she had spent in front of the mirror perfecting her facial expressions that she was able to keep her countenance completely stoic.
Her sisters knew.
