To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance) by Adrienne Basso Page A
Authors: Adrienne Basso
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’Tis most undignified.”
Trevor wanted to bellow, but he selfishly realized that would only make his head ache more. He glared at his valet. Everett returned the stare. They were at a standoff.
With ill grace, Trevor threw off the bedcovers. He stumbled off the bed, nearly landing in his valet’s lap. Although knowing it was not the reason his valet was so appalled, Trevor concluded it wouldn’t be prudent to receive his father while he lay abed with a monumental hangover.
The marquess made no further protests as his valet set about grooming him. Thirty minutes later, Trevor entered the small but tastefully furnished antechamber that served as his parlor.
The duke stood near the window, avidly watching the traffic below.
“At last.” The duke spoke without turning his head. “I knew if I waited long enough you would finally realize any attempts at avoiding me would fail.”
Trevor nearly turned around and walked back to his bedchamber. His brain was foggy from lack of sleep and too much whiskey. “I can hardly be accused of avoiding you, since I’ve only just discovered you were here, sir.”
Though the blood was surging through his veins, Trevor calmly took a seat.
“What the devil happened last night? You promised to be at Lady Dermond’s ball, yet I never saw you.”
Trevor smiled brashly as his father finally turned to face him. “I arrived early, sir, in hopes of concluding my duties in a reasonable amount of time. Alas, I found the affair so impossibly boring that after waiting nearly three hours for you to arrive, I gave up and left.”
The duke’s eyebrow rose shrewdly. “Is that what caused all the ruckus with the Barrington chit? Boredom?”
Trevor’s mouth twisted derisively. It appeared the gossiping tongues had been most busy today. “Are you referring to Lady Meredith Barrington, perchance?”
“Don’t take that innocent tone with me. I’m not one of your lackwitted cronies to be so easily put off by a show of indignity.” The duke gave a disgusted shake of his head. “I’ve heard all manner of outrageous tales about last night. That’s why I’ve come here. To learn the truth.”
“Right from the horse’s mouth,” Trevor said mildly.
“Horse? If only part of what’s being said is true, I would liken you more to a jackass.” The duke’s mouth twisted tauntingly. “She’s the Earl of Stafford’s daughter, isn’t she?”
“I believe that is correct.”
“And you ravished her in the garden?”
“What!” Trevor felt the pounding in his head return with colossal force. “I merely kissed her. If truth be told, she initiated our embrace.”
The duke gave a humorless smile. “You shared nothing more than a kiss? That certainly doesn’t sound like you.”
Trevor felt some of the tension leave his face at his father’s unmistakable mockery. “Impossible as it may seem, sir, I can occasionally show some restraint of my carnal and depraved nature. When necessary.”
“That is a relief,” the duke replied in a matching tone.
“Since it was only a little kiss, there is no need to make amends. Though Stafford is an earl, I’ve never liked the man. Too forward thinking for my tastes, allowing his daughter to run amok the way she has all these years—although his wife is a fine looking woman. In her younger days she could rival her daughter in beauty.”
Trevor’s mouth tightened. “The thought of making amends to Lady Meredith never entered my mind until you mentioned it.”
“Good. Forget I ever said anything.” The duke made a move toward the door. “I’ll expect you for dinner Friday evening. I’m having a small supper party. ’Tis only three days from now. I’m sure if you exert a supreme amount of effort, you can manage to stay out of trouble until then.”
“I make no promises,” the marquess retorted grimly.
The duke paused and turned toward Trevor. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he said, in an uncharacteristic display of
Trevor wanted to bellow, but he selfishly realized that would only make his head ache more. He glared at his valet. Everett returned the stare. They were at a standoff.
With ill grace, Trevor threw off the bedcovers. He stumbled off the bed, nearly landing in his valet’s lap. Although knowing it was not the reason his valet was so appalled, Trevor concluded it wouldn’t be prudent to receive his father while he lay abed with a monumental hangover.
The marquess made no further protests as his valet set about grooming him. Thirty minutes later, Trevor entered the small but tastefully furnished antechamber that served as his parlor.
The duke stood near the window, avidly watching the traffic below.
“At last.” The duke spoke without turning his head. “I knew if I waited long enough you would finally realize any attempts at avoiding me would fail.”
Trevor nearly turned around and walked back to his bedchamber. His brain was foggy from lack of sleep and too much whiskey. “I can hardly be accused of avoiding you, since I’ve only just discovered you were here, sir.”
Though the blood was surging through his veins, Trevor calmly took a seat.
“What the devil happened last night? You promised to be at Lady Dermond’s ball, yet I never saw you.”
Trevor smiled brashly as his father finally turned to face him. “I arrived early, sir, in hopes of concluding my duties in a reasonable amount of time. Alas, I found the affair so impossibly boring that after waiting nearly three hours for you to arrive, I gave up and left.”
The duke’s eyebrow rose shrewdly. “Is that what caused all the ruckus with the Barrington chit? Boredom?”
Trevor’s mouth twisted derisively. It appeared the gossiping tongues had been most busy today. “Are you referring to Lady Meredith Barrington, perchance?”
“Don’t take that innocent tone with me. I’m not one of your lackwitted cronies to be so easily put off by a show of indignity.” The duke gave a disgusted shake of his head. “I’ve heard all manner of outrageous tales about last night. That’s why I’ve come here. To learn the truth.”
“Right from the horse’s mouth,” Trevor said mildly.
“Horse? If only part of what’s being said is true, I would liken you more to a jackass.” The duke’s mouth twisted tauntingly. “She’s the Earl of Stafford’s daughter, isn’t she?”
“I believe that is correct.”
“And you ravished her in the garden?”
“What!” Trevor felt the pounding in his head return with colossal force. “I merely kissed her. If truth be told, she initiated our embrace.”
The duke gave a humorless smile. “You shared nothing more than a kiss? That certainly doesn’t sound like you.”
Trevor felt some of the tension leave his face at his father’s unmistakable mockery. “Impossible as it may seem, sir, I can occasionally show some restraint of my carnal and depraved nature. When necessary.”
“That is a relief,” the duke replied in a matching tone.
“Since it was only a little kiss, there is no need to make amends. Though Stafford is an earl, I’ve never liked the man. Too forward thinking for my tastes, allowing his daughter to run amok the way she has all these years—although his wife is a fine looking woman. In her younger days she could rival her daughter in beauty.”
Trevor’s mouth tightened. “The thought of making amends to Lady Meredith never entered my mind until you mentioned it.”
“Good. Forget I ever said anything.” The duke made a move toward the door. “I’ll expect you for dinner Friday evening. I’m having a small supper party. ’Tis only three days from now. I’m sure if you exert a supreme amount of effort, you can manage to stay out of trouble until then.”
“I make no promises,” the marquess retorted grimly.
The duke paused and turned toward Trevor. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he said, in an uncharacteristic display of
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