the literal truth, Mandy does, when it should be enjoyed for what it is, titillating fiction designed to break the inevitable boredom of a nonworking class.”
“Why come, if she didna want tae come?”
“And miss this golden opportunity to meet the reclusive Neville Thackeray? Wouldn’t think of it. He’s only been speculated about for years and years, and most of the people I know have never even clapped eyes on him. ‘Sides, the little sister there is in the market, if you know what I mean, so Mum and Dad pretty much insisted she not miss the exposure of a grand country gathering as this one is sure to be. Not that they’re hoping for
you
in particular, dear boy, just that they want to keep her circulating while the Season lasts, and yours truly gets to chaperone, don’t you know.”
Duncan was starting to understand the fellow better now, and wishing he didn’t That “dear boy,” he found particularly condescending, enough for him to remark, “If you havena noticed, I’m no’ exactly a
boy,
and certainly no’ a
dear
one tae you, when we havena met prior. I’ve laid men on the floor for implying less.”
“Have you?”
This was said in a very unimpressed tone. But then the fellow began to chuckle. That in turn turned into some extended laughter. When that wound down, the Englishman continued, “A piece of advice, my friend. Learn to distinguish between a deliberate insult and what is clearly, or at least clearly intended as, no more than an affectation of speech. It might save you much angst, I’m sure, and might save a few innocent noses as well.”
Feeling foolish never had been a preference of Duncan’s. It usually annoyed the hell out of him instead, and now was no different. “Your own nose isna safe yet, mon. Just who are you?”
Grinning, and so obviously not taking Duncan’s threat seriously, the Englishman answered, “I’ve a few titles, but truly deplore passing them out. Just call me Rafe,
old
chap.”
That last crack got the door shut on one of the most highly sought-after young lords of the realm, heir to a dukedom, wealthy beyond measure, the most eligible bachelor of the Season and every hostess’s dream come true. And yet the door was being shut on him.
Duncan would
not
have been impressed had heknown all of that. He was hoping their first meeting would be their last. They were to become great friends, though. They just didn’t know it yet.
Seventeen
“W hy, Miss Sabrina!” Richard Jacobs exclaimed in surprise. “You’ve never come this far on one of your walks before. Is something amiss?”
Sabrina smiled at Lord Neville’s butler to put him at ease. She knew the man well, and his family. She knew just about everyone in their small area of Yorkshire, after all, including everyone’s servants, and everyone knew her. Her walks did take her everywhere, after all, and being the friendly sort she was, she would usually strike up a conversation with anyone she came across. Then, too, she had grown up here, and it was hard not to know everyone in such a small community—with the exception of Lord Neville himself.
Her embarrassment was starting to show, however,since Jacobs would know that she wasn’t there by invitation. He did so pride himself on knowing every single thing that had to do with Lord Neville, and in his position of greeting the guests, would know whom to expect.
To put
herself at
ease, she didn’t get right to the point, asked instead, “How is your lovely wife faring now? Better, I hope?”
“Oh, much better, miss. And do please thank your aunt Alice again for that tea recipe. It was just the thing to soothe her cough.”
Sabrina
could
have continued to chat, but felt her cheeks already heating, and before they got too bright a red, she wound up her courage. “I will be sure to do that. And no, nothing is amiss. I’ve just been asked to deliver a private message to Lord Duncan while I was out and about today.”
She couldn’t imagine why he
“Why come, if she didna want tae come?”
“And miss this golden opportunity to meet the reclusive Neville Thackeray? Wouldn’t think of it. He’s only been speculated about for years and years, and most of the people I know have never even clapped eyes on him. ‘Sides, the little sister there is in the market, if you know what I mean, so Mum and Dad pretty much insisted she not miss the exposure of a grand country gathering as this one is sure to be. Not that they’re hoping for
you
in particular, dear boy, just that they want to keep her circulating while the Season lasts, and yours truly gets to chaperone, don’t you know.”
Duncan was starting to understand the fellow better now, and wishing he didn’t That “dear boy,” he found particularly condescending, enough for him to remark, “If you havena noticed, I’m no’ exactly a
boy,
and certainly no’ a
dear
one tae you, when we havena met prior. I’ve laid men on the floor for implying less.”
“Have you?”
This was said in a very unimpressed tone. But then the fellow began to chuckle. That in turn turned into some extended laughter. When that wound down, the Englishman continued, “A piece of advice, my friend. Learn to distinguish between a deliberate insult and what is clearly, or at least clearly intended as, no more than an affectation of speech. It might save you much angst, I’m sure, and might save a few innocent noses as well.”
Feeling foolish never had been a preference of Duncan’s. It usually annoyed the hell out of him instead, and now was no different. “Your own nose isna safe yet, mon. Just who are you?”
Grinning, and so obviously not taking Duncan’s threat seriously, the Englishman answered, “I’ve a few titles, but truly deplore passing them out. Just call me Rafe,
old
chap.”
That last crack got the door shut on one of the most highly sought-after young lords of the realm, heir to a dukedom, wealthy beyond measure, the most eligible bachelor of the Season and every hostess’s dream come true. And yet the door was being shut on him.
Duncan would
not
have been impressed had heknown all of that. He was hoping their first meeting would be their last. They were to become great friends, though. They just didn’t know it yet.
Seventeen
“W hy, Miss Sabrina!” Richard Jacobs exclaimed in surprise. “You’ve never come this far on one of your walks before. Is something amiss?”
Sabrina smiled at Lord Neville’s butler to put him at ease. She knew the man well, and his family. She knew just about everyone in their small area of Yorkshire, after all, including everyone’s servants, and everyone knew her. Her walks did take her everywhere, after all, and being the friendly sort she was, she would usually strike up a conversation with anyone she came across. Then, too, she had grown up here, and it was hard not to know everyone in such a small community—with the exception of Lord Neville himself.
Her embarrassment was starting to show, however,since Jacobs would know that she wasn’t there by invitation. He did so pride himself on knowing every single thing that had to do with Lord Neville, and in his position of greeting the guests, would know whom to expect.
To put
herself at
ease, she didn’t get right to the point, asked instead, “How is your lovely wife faring now? Better, I hope?”
“Oh, much better, miss. And do please thank your aunt Alice again for that tea recipe. It was just the thing to soothe her cough.”
Sabrina
could
have continued to chat, but felt her cheeks already heating, and before they got too bright a red, she wound up her courage. “I will be sure to do that. And no, nothing is amiss. I’ve just been asked to deliver a private message to Lord Duncan while I was out and about today.”
She couldn’t imagine why he
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