AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Minerva stepped in front of her brother and asked, “Do you believe Drake could defeat me?”
“Assuming you didn’t want him to?” Benedict’s eyes stared back at her, clear and intent. “Yes. Yes, I believe there is still a strong possibility he could. The two of you think alike. Frighteningly so.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand what you want me to do.”
“I want you to play Drake.”
Hands clenched at her sides, she asked, “And what of your rule that friends don’t dally with a friend’s sister?”
“If it’s a choice of losing my best friend and not knowing of his welfare or location or losing my sister to a friend…I choose the latter.”
“What?” Minerva grabbed her brother by the forearm and tugged him back to the window he’d entered. “Out!”
Halfway in and halfway out, Benedict turned and said, “If he were to somehow win, I know Drake would protect you. He would see to it that you are well taken care of.”
With a shove, Minerva pushed her brother out the window. “Benedict Malbury, I love ye, but you can be a pompous prig. Now leave before I hurt you.”
She didn’t disagree with her brother. Drake would fulfill his husbandly duties without complaint, but she wanted more. She wished for a husband who desired her, who loved her and who wanted to spend time with her. Drake had made it clear to her—his desire was for another. He’d given his heart to another. He even shared that he’d spent many an hour seeking out the location of a lady. A lady she knew well.
Her mind was a whirl, volleying from rage at Benedict and his misguided statements, to concern for a man that she couldn’t stop loving, back to anger at herself for her inability to remain indifferent. If she didn’t intervene, Drake would be sent away, and her siblings’ distress would fall on her shoulders.
She rushed into her adjoining changing room and slipped out of her nightgown. Hands fumbling through drawers, Minerva mumbled, “Where are they?” She searched for her brother Gregory’s old breeches and a lawn shirt that she had stashed away for such occasions.
A sigh of relief escaped her as she found Gregory’s discarded clothing under a mound of silk stockings. A shiver ran down her spine as she donned the items. She would need a greatcoat, but Isadora had Gregory’s castoff.
With a sigh, Minerva made her way through the house. She was exhausted, and the idea of traipsing across Town to sneak into Drake’s residence caused her stomach to knot.
Minerva tiptoed down to the empty foyer, where Gregory’s greatcoat was haphazardly draped over the stair railing. How peculiar. The Malbury butler was meticulous. He wasn’t one to leave Gregory’s garments lying about.
With no one in sight, Minerva slipped on the coat and made her way out the front door. She halted at the sight of her most trusted footman standing at the ready by the Malbury coach.
Benedict. It had to be his doing. Blasted older brothers.
Minerva’s lips curved into a smile as she stepped up into the coach. Her brother knew her well. He just didn’t know the truth about his best friend’s infatuation for another woman. Benedict had left it up to Minerva to sort out matters, as usual. She never shied away from responsibility, and she wasn’t about to start now, even if it meant placing her heart in danger once again.
Chapter Three
Trunks packed, Drakestrode across his bedchambers and leaned his forehead against the cool glass plane and closed his eyes.All shall be fine.Despite his having repeated the mantra over and over silently within, and out loud for the last several hours, both his heart and mind remained unconvinced. As the hours passed and the threat of being banished to foreign soil loomed—to be surrounded by strangers, without a familiar face close by for the foreseeable future—the waves of fear continued to mount and roll through him again and again.
A hand fell upon his left shoulder. He whirled about, grappling with the intruder.
How in damnation had someone entered his home, his chambers, undetected?
Soft curves pressed against his forearms and his favorite mixed scent of lemons and vanilla filled his lungs. Minerva.
Instead of releasing her like he knew he should, he inhaled deeply and nuzzled her neck. If he wasn’t going to be able to see her for months, more likely years, he was going to take full advantage of the hoyden’s mistake of entering his chambers alone.
“Anthony Joseph Edmund MacMillian! Release me this instant.”
Oh, how he loved it when she recited his full name. It meant she was flustered. She uttered the extra syllables when she needed another moment or two to think.
He slowly eased his hold on her and reluctantly took a step back.
She spun around to face him. Her lush lips were thinned into a straight line. Dammit. Even when the woman was hopping mad at him, his blood pumped faster through his veins. Minerva’s ability to put him on tilt had intensified over the years. A mere glance from her had him questioning his every thought, every decision, every acute physical response to her presence. And as each year passed, Minerva became more and more infuriatingly hard to resist. He wanted to reach out and drag her back into his arms to show her how much he cared for her. Instead, Anthony crossed his arms over his chest, secured his fingers tightly beneath his triceps, and counted.
One-one thousand.
Two-one thousand.
