How to Dance With a Duke Read Online Free PDF Page B

am to retrieve my father’s journals it is the only way. And if Papa should die of his illness, then my marrying will remove a burden from Violet’s shoulders. I certainly don’t wish to live with Cousin Rufus.”
    “When compared with a life lived with Rufus and his toadying wife, marriage does seem like a sensible option,” Juliet said, brushing biscuit crumbs from her hands.
    “So, what next?” Maddie asked. “If you intend to husband-hunt you won’t be able to do it from between the chaperones and the wallflowers.”
    “No, I won’t,” Cecily agreed. “Isn’t it lucky for me that I have one of the loveliest, most socially savvy ladies in the Beau Monde as my stepmother?”
    *   *   *
    Upon her return to Hurston House, Cecily found her stepmother working on her embroidery in the sitting room attached to her husband’s sickroom. Even in the midst of all this drama Lady Hurston was stunning. Her dark hair, which shone blue-black in the sunlight, was arranged simply in a tasteful chignon, and her royal-blue morning gown highlighted the porcelain of her complexion and the blue of her eyes. Her forty-one years showed only around her eyes, which since Lord Hurston’s illness had grown more disheartened as time passed.
    Seeing Cecily enter the room, Violet stood. “Darling, how was your visit with the girls? Have you had luncheon? Tea? I’ll ring for some.”
    Nodding her assent, Cecily sat in the chair opposite where Violet had been. It was chilly for spring and the warmth of the fire felt good after her carriage ride.
    “Juliet and Madeline send their love,” she said. Then sobering, she asked, “How is Father? Any better?”
    There was a slight pause as Violet thought about her response.
    “He is no worse,” she said carefully, as if speaking of her husband’s condition would bring on further troubles. “But he is also no better. In fact, I believe since his last cupping he is weaker.”
    It had been thus ever since a litter bearing the stricken man had arrived at the front door of the Hurston town house. The knowledge that Hurston was ill had been difficult, of course, but realizing the extent to which his apoplectic fit had affected his brain was devastating to those who knew just how keen his mind had always been. In the months since, his lack of progress and the hours both Violet and Cecily spent at his bedside, seeing him in such suffering, had taken its toll.
    Knowing it would divert Violet’s mind from the gravity of Lord Hurston’s condition, Cecily changed the subject.
    “What would you say if I asked you to assist me with another matter?” Not waiting for an answer, she pressed on before she could change her mind. “I need your help refurbishing my wardrobe.”
    Violet’s blue eyes went wide. Quickly, she hopped up, took Cecily by the arm and ushered her through the connecting door to her dressing room. Safely out of the sickroom, she let out a muffled squeal. “Huzzah! My dear girl, whatever has caused you to change your mind?”
    Cecily bit her lip. She was torn between revealing her real reason for wanting to transform herself, and simply fobbing off her stepmother with a tale of nursing a tendre for some likely gentleman. The image of Winterson’s handsome face invaded her imagination, but she ruthlessly suppressed it. He was far too handsome for his own good. And his military background likely meant he was used to giving orders. Which made him the last man on earth she’d ever wish to marry.
    In the end, she decided a half-truth would be enough to whet Violet’s matchmaking appetite though it meant acknowledging a possibility neither of them relished. “I have decided that since Cousin Rufus has all but taken a measuring tape to the drawing room window coverings, it would be prudent of me to ensure that I have some means of looking after myself should…”—she paused here with very real emotion—“something happen to Papa.”
    Violet’s eyes swelled with unshed