Mary Balogh Read Online Free PDF

atrocities Francis devised to be rid of her.”
    The duke laughed. “I think I had a permanently stinging hand that one time you all stayed with us for a month,” he said. “I doubtless gave myself far more pain than I meted out to Francis’s backside. Do you remember the orchestra pavilion, Olivia?”
    The earl chuckled and looked at his wife to find that her smile had changed to one of genuine amusement.
    “If it is possible for one’s heart to perform a complete somersault,” she said, “I think mine did when I saw Sophia sitting on the very peak of the dome, as cool as a cucumber, refusing to admit either that she was frightened or that she did not know how to get down.”
    “And she was barely four years old,” His Grace said.
    “I did not know,” the earl said, “that I was capable of shinning up smooth pillars and up an even smoother dome in less time than it would have taken me to run around the pavilion once.”
    “And Olivia standing below admonishing you to be careful,” the duke said with a chuckle. “And holding out her arms as if she thought she could catch you if you fell.”
    Lord Clifton met his wife’s amused eyes and felt his smile fade with hers.
    “And Francis nowhere in sight,” His Grace continued, “after luring her up there. He had gone fishing, if I remember correctly. And it was Olivia weeping in your arms, Marcus, after it was all over, not Sophia. She was on her way to join the fishing party, I believe.”
    “Yes,” the earl said. “I believe I was so shaken that I even forgot to spank her.”
    “They were good days,” the duke said with a sigh, “when the children were all young and about us. But who would have thought that Francis and Sophia would ever develop an attachment? He would never let her play with him even when they got older. Is that not right, Marcus?”
    “Fortunately,” Lord Clifton said, “they did not see much of each other once they were both off at school and Sophia was spending most of her holidays at Rushton. They have not met for four years before this spring.”
    “And now it seems, Olivia,” the duke said, “that they want to make us related by marriage. How will you like it, eh? Do you fancy having my scamp of a youngest son for a son-in-law? I would not blame you at all if you were to say no.” He laughed heartily.
    The earl looked at his wife.
    “Marcus and I have had no chance to discuss Lord Francis’s offer,” she said quietly. “It would be unfair to give my opinion until we have done so, William.”
    A good answer
, the earl thought, looking at her admiringly. Marcus? She had called him that earlier outside. Prior to that, she had not called him by his full name since before their marriage. It had always been Marc. But then he had been calling her Olivia since her arrival.
    Which was as it should be. They were, after all, strangers. Strangers who happened to share some memories and a daughter.
    “This is neither the time nor the place to discuss terms anyway,” the duke said. “Ah, the young people are leaving the pianoforte.”
    Sutton was taking Sophia by the hand, the earl saw, and threading his fingers with hers. They were smiling ateach other as if they saw the whole world mirrored in each other’s eyes. And they were approaching.
    “Your permission, sir,” Lord Francis said, bowing, “to take your daughter walking on the terrace outside. Miss Maxwell and Lady Jennifer, Mr. Hathaway, and Sir Ridley will be coming, too, if the ladies’ parents permit.”
    “It is a heavenly night,” Sophia said. “We looked out through the windows a short time ago—did we not, Francis—and all the stars are shining and the moon is bright. Do say yes, Papa. It is too warm in here.”
    She was looking very pretty, her father thought, her dark eyes bright, her cheeks flushed, the radiance of young love giving her a certain glow. She reminded him of her mother, although he had never before thought them alike. There was something in