Drury Lane Darling Read Online Free PDF

him down at once. “In Chatham, it usually presages a flirtation, but no doubt in London they have some less innocent intention. Which I, of course, shan’t mention after your kind hint. I must have Lady Chamaude teach me to blush.”
    “You are blushing, Miss Comstock. Well, well. And here I thought Nigel was exaggerating when he called you—” A light laugh lifted his thin lips. “More unutterable phrases.”
    Her eyes darted over his shoulder, quite ignoring the advances of the most sought-after parti in London. “Lord Breslau, hurry! He’s holding her hand. His mother will kill him!”
    Breslau cast a fairly disinterested eye toward the sofa. “Surely she’ll reserve slaughter for the engagement. Holding hands merits no more than a hundred lashes.”
    “Aren’t you even a little jealous?”
    “Of whom?”
    “Nigel and the Flawless One, of course.”
    “No, only of Nigel,” he said, and finally rose to insert himself between Nigel and the marquise, leaving Miss Comstock to sip tea with a pensive gleam in her eye.
    She heard the muted hush of angry voices in the hallway, and wandered closer to try to make out the words.
    Lady Raleigh was laying down the law in no uncertain terms. “The downstairs bedchamber, you see. The hussy plans to entertain Nigel after we are all abed.”
    “Rubbish,” Sir Aubrey said. “Let her sleep downstairs. We don’t want her any closer to the rest of us than she must be.”
    His wife approved of this un-Christian sentiment, but still Nigel’s virtue took precedence. “I have half a mind to lock his door and remove the key after he retires.”
    “He’d only crawl out the window, if that is what they’re up to.”
    Lady Raleigh was silent a moment while her mind canvassed other options. “We’ve put Breslau in the Tudor suite. Nigel can sleep in the spare cot in his dressing room.”
    “If Breslau sleeps in his own bed.”
    His wife was happy to see Aubrey was alive to all the sinful possibilities inherent in the situation. “If he’s with the actress, then Nigel is safe,” she pointed out.
    “It will look odd, billeting him on Breslau.”
    “I’ll throw some dustcovers over Nigel’s bed and open a bottle of turpentine. I’ll say the room’s being painted.”
    “What of the other guest rooms?”
    “Not aired, and very drafty. With Nigel’s weak chest, he must have a warm room. I’ll speak to the housekeeper about it at once.”
    “That’ll do then,” Sir Aubrey decided. “I’m retiring to my study till dinner. I can’t abide that woman’s vulgar chatter.”
    His good wife could hardly believe her ears. It almost seemed her prayers were answered, and Aubrey had given up his shameless ways. To voluntarily remove himself from an actress when his wife wasn’t even in the room was an unprecedented thing. She hastened off to consult with the housekeeper, and Sir Aubrey went to his office, trembling.
    How much would Corinne demand? He wasn’t a wealthy man. A thousand pounds would strap him pretty badly. He was sitting with his head in his hands when he heard a light tap at the door. Dot and the servants didn’t bother to knock. It must be Breslau. Was he aware of what was going on? He was a man-about-town at least—he might know what Lord Alban was soaked for.
    He hurried to the door. “Sir Aubrey, I find you alone, just as I hoped,” the marquise said, and sauntered in, hips swaying just as he remembered. “You and I shall have a little talk, hein? About the olden days, in Brighton. Perhaps we should close the door?” she suggested with an arch look.
    ****
    In the saloon, Breslau watched the marquise leave, and was at a loss as to why she should be running after Sir Aubrey. What had she meant by all that talk of Brighton? Breslau was familiar with all Fleur’s moods and expressions. The mood she took to Sir Aubrey’s office was one that presaged no good.
    It suddenly occurred to Nigel that he hadn’t exchanged a single sentence with Pamela