Midnight Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

brother's reputations for squandering vast sums of money. So he had watched Elizabeth at the balls and held his tongue.
    Even later, there was no thought in his mind of an offer. Then she had disappeared. Honest with himself as he always tried to be, he had to admit that as attracted as he had been to her, when she left London, his attention was easily distracted. This time she would be harder to forget. The vision of her through her thin nightgown seemed burned in his mind. He thought of her lying in bed above him and almost groaned. The clank of the coal bucket reminded him of the situation. He held his breath for a moment.
    What was he doing in her room? He began to review the events of the evening before.
    As hard as she tried, Elizabeth could remember nothing after her talk with Charles. In fact, she could not even remember her brother leaving.
    For Dunstan the evening had been much like those earlier in his visit. After the meal he had played a few hands of cards, winning most of them. He patted his coat pockets lightly. At the first rustle of vowels and clink of coins, he stopped and listened. The maid did not pause in her duties. He exhaled quietly. How had he gotten from gaming to his hostess's bedroom?
    Minute by minute he tried to recall the details of the previous evening, but they were uncharacteristically fuzzy. Dunstan knew he had played a hand or two with almost everyone in the house party; the satisfyingly full pockets told him that he had, as usual, been lucky. Once again he was struck by the irony. He, who cared little for games of chance, won; his father, who had lived to gamble, had beggared himself with his losses. He chuckled ironically. Then he remembered where he was and froze, checking to see if the maid was going to react.
    She did not pause in her work. Elizabeth, however, trembled, certain the man's presence was going to be discovered. Who was he? She ground her teeth for a minute and then relaxed her jaw. Jeffries had told her his name when he appeared with the tea tray. Tea— Teasley ? Elizabeth shook her head, dislodging a pillow. The maid turned, her eyes on her mistress. Elizabeth forced herself to breathe deeply, feigning sleep.
    As soon as the maid returned to sweeping the hearth, Elizabeth relaxed. Not "A," she thought, or "B." "C"? Yes, that sounded right. Or was it "D"? Clarke? Clare? Clarendon! That was it. But didn't he have a title? Was Clarendon his name or his title? She tried picturing him once more as she had seen him the previous afternoon. The sight of him on the floor beside her bed kept getting in the way. Her face a flaming red, she burrowed deeper in her pillows, a tiny smile on her lips. He was certainly more intriguing than the rest of her brother's friends.
    The thought of her brother almost brought Elizabeth out of bed. A quick peek at the windows told her it was still early, far too early for Charles to be up. Once again the thought of his slurred speech made her want to shake him. She had seen what a constant round of drinking and gambling could do to a man. She did not intend her brother to go the way of her fiancé.
    "Dunstan! Viscount Dunstan!" she whispered under her breath. The details came flooding back. Jeffries had said the man had inherited the title recently. Now that the name was firmly in her mind, the gossip her stepmother insisted on sharing came to the surface.
    Viscount Dunstan was a name associated with the wildest parties, the deepest gambling. If Charles were running with that crowd, she had better contact her stepmother soon.
    So intent was she on these thoughts that she did not hear the door close behind the maid. "Miss Beckworth ? Elizabeth? May I come out now?" a deep voice asked.
    Elizabeth jumped. "No!"
    "Do you plan to keep me here forever?" he asked with a laugh. "If so, I do hope you plan to give me a duster." The danger now past, he could see some humor in the situation.
    Elizabeth could not. "What are you doing in my room?" she said, her