A Comfortable Wife Read Online Free PDF Page A

curate was featuring remarkably often.
    Laying aside his fork, he reached for his wineglass. “This curate of yours seems to have taken his duties very seriously.”
    Antonia’s smile was fond. “Indeed. Mr Smothingham was always a great support. He really is a true knight—a most chivalrous soul.” With a small sigh, she gave her attention to the gooseberry fool Fenton had placed before her.
    Leaving Philip to wonder how he could possibly feel so aggressive towards a probably perfectly innocent curate whom he had never met. He cleared his throat. “Henriettamentioned she was thinking of going up to town for the Little Season.”
    “Indeed.” Savouring the tartness of the gooseberry treat, Antonia slanted him a glance. “She’s invited me to accompany her. I hope you don’t disapprove?”
    “Disapprove?” Philip forced his eyes wide. “Not at all.” Picking up his spoon, he attacked the frothy concoction before him. “In fact, I’ll be relieved to know she’ll have your company.”
    Antonia smiled and gave her attention to her dessert.
    Philip rejected his, reaching instead for his wineglass. He took a long sip, his gaze on Antonia. “Am I to understand you’re looking forward to taking the ton by storm?”
    She met his gaze with another of her disconcertingly direct looks. “I don’t know.” Her brows rose; her lips curved lightly. “Do you think I would find it diverting?”
    Beyond his will, Philip’s gaze was drawn to her lips, to the rich fullness of the ripe curves. He watched as the tip of her tongue traced their contours, leaving them sheening. His expression rigidly impassive, Philip drew in a deep breath. Slowly, he lifted his eyes and met Antonia’s steady gaze. “As to that, my dear, I would not dare hazard a guess.”
     
    He had only questioned her intentions in London to assure himself she was a willing partner in Henrietta’s schemes. His motives, Philip assured himself, were entirely altruistic. Henrietta could be a battleship when she was so moved. Unless he had misread the signs, when it came to Antonia’s future, Henrietta was definitely moved.
    “I’m not in the mood for billiards.” Tossing back the last of his port, he stood and settled his coat. “Let’s join the ladies, shall we?”
    Geoffrey, for the first time elevated to the rank of gentleman to the extent of remaining to pass the port, saw nothing odd in the suggestion.
    Hugo was not so innocent. He turned a face of amazed incomprehension on Philip.
    Philip ignored it, leading the way to the drawing-room without further comment.
    If Henrietta was surprised by his unheralded break with long established habit, she gave no sign. Seated on the chaise, she looked up from her needlework to smile benignly. “Wonderful—just what we need. Geoffrey, do go and sing a duet with Antonia.”
    Henrietta waved towards the pianoforte, which stood before the long windows, presently open to the terrace. Antonia sat at the instrument, her fingers on the keys. A gentle, elusive air hung faint in the evening breeze.
    With an obedient nod, Geoffrey headed for his sister. Antonia smiled a welcome, breaking off her playing to reach for the pile of music sheets resting on the piano’s edge. With his customary lazy grace, Philip strolled in Geoffrey’s wake. Left standing by the chaise, Hugo studied the small procession, then shrugged and brought up the rear.
    “Let’s try this, shall we?” Antonia placed a sheet on the stand.
    Geoffrey scanned the lines, then nodded.
    Philip took up a position by the side of the grand piano from where he could watch Antonia’s face. As her fingers ranged the keys and the first chords of an old ballad filled the room, she looked up and met his gaze. A slight smile touched her lips; for an instant, their gazes held. Then she looked down and the music swept on.
    She and Geoffrey sang in unison, Geoffrey’s pure tenor weaving in and about her fuller tones. For one stanza, she sang alone; Philip