the Abbey, had hired in a number of girls from the village to help with food preparations and the endless round of bed making, dusting and sweeping so many guests demanded.
The last expected guest had just arrived in a flurry of embraces when there came a great rapping at the vast door of the Abbey. Hoots, as much a fixture in the Abbey as any of the furniture and approximately twice as old, hurried to open it, but not hastily enough, and I heard a booming voice carrying into the hall.
“My God, man, leave me rot on the doorstep, and me come all the way from Scotland! Get out the way and let me pass before I poke you with my stick, you great nubbin.”
I turned to Aunt Hermia in shock. She mouthed a single word at me. “Aberdour.”
It was his Grace, the Duke of Aberdour, Brisbane’s great-uncle and the genteel terror of the United Kingdom. I gave Aunt Hermia a meaningful glance. “Warn the maids,” I told her as I hurried forward.
“Your Grace, how delightful to see you! You sent regrets,” I said, moving to him with my hand extended.
He ignored it and kissed me soundly on the mouth. “Of course I sent regrets. It would hardly be a surprise if I told you I was coming.” He smacked his lips appreciatively as he looked me up and down. “You’ve put on a mite of weight since I saw you last. Looks like it all went up top,” he noted, leering into my décolletage. He leaned closer. “Tasty enough, but I am rather a bum man, myself.”
“Indeed, your Grace?” I asked faintly.
He gave a wheezy chuckle. “Don’t look so abashed, lass. I am too old to mend my ways. Now, tell me the truth. Do you really mean to marry that scapegrace nephew of mine or have you reconsidered my proposal?”
“Your proposal?”
He huffed, offended. “When last we met at your father’s house in London—that musical evening of Lady Hermia’s—I seem to recall offering you my hand. What about it, girl? You’d be a duchess. That is nought to sneeze at. And I wager I could give my nephew a run for his money in the bedchamber. He hasn’t as much practise as I have. You see, the key to bedding a woman—”
I broke in swiftly. “How kind of you to renew your offer, your Grace. But I am afraid I must decline. Brisbane is the man for me.”
He gave me a shrewd look from under his bushy white brows. “You are a woman besotted. I can see it well enough. And he is just the same. We came down on the same train and he went quite moony at the mention of your name, poor cub. Very well, then. If you will not marry me, point me towards the port. I’ve had the devil’s own trip of it and could use a bit of stimulation.”
He waggled his eyebrows at me, but before I could respond, Portia moved smoothly forward. “I will be happy to show you to the drinks cabinet,” she said, putting an arm through his. “And we can have a nice chat. I believe you were saying something instructive on the bedding of women?”
Portia drew him away and Aunt Hermia and I exchanged horrified glances.”Wherever shall I put him? All the guest rooms are taken.”
“You could let him sleep in your room,” I told her mischievously. “He seems to be in the market for a wife.”
She nipped me hard with her fingers but I twisted away and slipped out the door just before Hoots swung it closed on its massive hinges. The problem of what to do with the duke did not fall to me, and I had more pressing matters to attend to. Brisbane had arrived! I had not seen him for nearly two months, and I was not prepared to wait a minute more. I fairly flew down the long drive, heedless of the stones cutting through my thin slippers. I had intended to walk to the village, but no sooner had I passed through the gates of the Abbey than I spied him crossing a field of young wheat, his hand brushing the top of the budding ears. I stopped, my heart rushing so quickly I thought it would fly right out of my chest. I opened my mouth, and found I could not speak. I could only stare
The last expected guest had just arrived in a flurry of embraces when there came a great rapping at the vast door of the Abbey. Hoots, as much a fixture in the Abbey as any of the furniture and approximately twice as old, hurried to open it, but not hastily enough, and I heard a booming voice carrying into the hall.
“My God, man, leave me rot on the doorstep, and me come all the way from Scotland! Get out the way and let me pass before I poke you with my stick, you great nubbin.”
I turned to Aunt Hermia in shock. She mouthed a single word at me. “Aberdour.”
It was his Grace, the Duke of Aberdour, Brisbane’s great-uncle and the genteel terror of the United Kingdom. I gave Aunt Hermia a meaningful glance. “Warn the maids,” I told her as I hurried forward.
“Your Grace, how delightful to see you! You sent regrets,” I said, moving to him with my hand extended.
He ignored it and kissed me soundly on the mouth. “Of course I sent regrets. It would hardly be a surprise if I told you I was coming.” He smacked his lips appreciatively as he looked me up and down. “You’ve put on a mite of weight since I saw you last. Looks like it all went up top,” he noted, leering into my décolletage. He leaned closer. “Tasty enough, but I am rather a bum man, myself.”
“Indeed, your Grace?” I asked faintly.
He gave a wheezy chuckle. “Don’t look so abashed, lass. I am too old to mend my ways. Now, tell me the truth. Do you really mean to marry that scapegrace nephew of mine or have you reconsidered my proposal?”
“Your proposal?”
He huffed, offended. “When last we met at your father’s house in London—that musical evening of Lady Hermia’s—I seem to recall offering you my hand. What about it, girl? You’d be a duchess. That is nought to sneeze at. And I wager I could give my nephew a run for his money in the bedchamber. He hasn’t as much practise as I have. You see, the key to bedding a woman—”
I broke in swiftly. “How kind of you to renew your offer, your Grace. But I am afraid I must decline. Brisbane is the man for me.”
He gave me a shrewd look from under his bushy white brows. “You are a woman besotted. I can see it well enough. And he is just the same. We came down on the same train and he went quite moony at the mention of your name, poor cub. Very well, then. If you will not marry me, point me towards the port. I’ve had the devil’s own trip of it and could use a bit of stimulation.”
He waggled his eyebrows at me, but before I could respond, Portia moved smoothly forward. “I will be happy to show you to the drinks cabinet,” she said, putting an arm through his. “And we can have a nice chat. I believe you were saying something instructive on the bedding of women?”
Portia drew him away and Aunt Hermia and I exchanged horrified glances.”Wherever shall I put him? All the guest rooms are taken.”
“You could let him sleep in your room,” I told her mischievously. “He seems to be in the market for a wife.”
She nipped me hard with her fingers but I twisted away and slipped out the door just before Hoots swung it closed on its massive hinges. The problem of what to do with the duke did not fall to me, and I had more pressing matters to attend to. Brisbane had arrived! I had not seen him for nearly two months, and I was not prepared to wait a minute more. I fairly flew down the long drive, heedless of the stones cutting through my thin slippers. I had intended to walk to the village, but no sooner had I passed through the gates of the Abbey than I spied him crossing a field of young wheat, his hand brushing the top of the budding ears. I stopped, my heart rushing so quickly I thought it would fly right out of my chest. I opened my mouth, and found I could not speak. I could only stare
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