Lord Langley Is Back in Town by Elizabeth Boyle Page A

shaking her head. “I will not enter into any sort of agreement. There will be no betrothal. No engagement. I’d rather weather the scandal that will come of refusing you than find myself mired up to my neck in something neither of us could escape or want.”
    He shook his head and looked ready to start doing what he reputably did so well—cajoling—and certainly not the other thing he was reputed to do so well—when Mrs. Hutchinson came in and stopped him in his tracks.
    “There you are,” the housekeeper said, thrusting a note out to Minerva. “This came for you. The fellow said he’d wait for an answer.”
    Minerva took the slip of paper and drew a deep breath, for she could never quite get used to Mrs. Hutchinson’s less than stellar manners. She’d be fired from any other employment for her cheek and lack of regard for boundaries, but then again, no one made scones like the lady.
    And that had to be worth something, Minerva told herself even as she glanced down at the dirty folded bit in her hands.
    Lady Standon.
    Minerva nearly dropped it as she stared at the hasty scrawl of writing across the front. Good God, no! It couldn’t be.
    She glanced again at the lettering, even as her heart stilled to a dull pounding thud. She’d know that handwriting anywhere. After glancing at Langley, who was charming Mrs. Hutchinson with lofty praise for her baking, she slid her trembling finger under the plain seal.
    Inside it was worse than she’d first feared.
    The money is late. Explain yourself. Now.
    She folded it back up and stuffed it inside her sleeve, hidden away, though hardly forgotten. Taking another deep breath to still her shaking limbs, she managed a prim smile. “Did the man say he would wait?”
    “Oh, aye. Out back. Cheeky devil. Should I send Lucy’s man after him?”
    “No, no,” Minerva told her, rising abruptly. “That won’t be necessary.”
    “Is there something amiss?” Langley asked as he too got to his feet, wiping his mouth with his napkin and setting it down beside his plate. “Can I be of assistance?”
    “No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “Just some questions from the painter about what colors I wanted this room done in.” She paused, her hand coming to rest on her other sleeve cuff, where the note sat tucked away. “Best I see to it quickly so the work isn’t delayed. Please, Lord Langley, finish your breakfast.”
    “We are not done, my lady,” he told her as she rushed out the door, having paid his words no heed. Langley glanced over at Mrs. Hutchinson. “Did you find her ladyship’s behavior a bit odd?”
    The housekeeper shrugged. “Everything about you toffs is a bit queer in the nob, if you ask me.”
    “Sorry I did,” Langley said, glancing out the door where Minerva had fled.

Chapter 5
     
. . . though not for long.
Further advice from Nanny Tasha
     
    M inerva paused at the back door, her hand trembling as she reached for the latch.
    “You can do this,” she whispered to herself. “You can face him.”
    All those years ago. How long had it been? Twelve years since she’d discovered the truth about love. About him. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
    At the very least it had been another life. One she didn’t want to revisit. Yet here she was, about to face a past she had tried to keep buried all these years. Her fingers wrapped around the latch and pushed the back door open.
    Glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, she slipped into the garden and walked down the uneven path toward the gate, steeling herself for the sight of him.
    But when she stepped into the alleyway, she found it empty. She glanced right then left, and for a moment felt a fleeting bit of relief.
    She’d been wrong. It wasn’t him.
    Oh, but it was. For just then, out of the doorway that led to the garden across the way, stepped a tall muscular figure.
    “Maggie, me girl, look at you.”
    Minerva stilled. Maggie . She hadn’t been called that since the day