Miss Quinn's Quandary Read Online Free PDF

pompadour by
pulling his long strands of hair from the sides of his head and curling them
around on the top like a braided rug, plastering the mass down with a mixture
of sugar, glycerin, and water. It wasn’t in Randall’s nature to stare at the
phenomenon, but one couldn’t help but have one’s eyes drawn to the elaborate,
manmade configuration.
    “Uncle Cyrus, you make yourself sound positively ancient.”
    “We won’t be a pair of young bucks waltzing into Almacks . I’m counting on your dashing good looks to draw the
beauties, while I do the pretty.” He sketched a practice bow for his nephew’s
consideration. “Still, I think I can always use a few pointers, don’t you?” He
leaned over and caught the hem of Randall’s brocade waistcoat between his
fingers and felt the fabric. “Nice, yes, very nice. I’ll need a new wardrobe
and maybe a …” He sucked in his gut and gave his slightly protruding
midsection a pat.
    “Corset? Good heavens, no, Uncle,” Randall gasped. “Those things
look so demmed silly. You’ll be all red in the face
and go about creaking. People will talk behind your back about what a
trussed-up ass you are.”
    “The Regent wears one, if I’m not mistaken,” Rushton stated with
a haughty air.
    “No one said Prinny was fashionable. No
one dares say it to his face, anyway.” Randall sat in his chair and took up his
glass. “If he were not a prince, how many ladies would be after him, corset or
no?”
    “You’re quite right. I’m an earl. I don’t need a corset.” Rushton
returned to his seat, retrieving his drink. “You don’t suppose someone would
marry me just for me, do you?”
    Randall gave a smile. “I don’t see why not. You’re a fine man,
any woman should consider herself lucky to have you.”
    “Thank you, my boy.” Rushton sat back in his chair. He raised his
glass toward his nephew in appreciation. “I knew there was a good reason I took
a liking to you. I hope you’re up to traveling. I’ve told my valet we are to
leave in two days’ time.” Randall did not have a chance to give an answer.
“When I was your age, I’d be ready at a moment’s notice, and could travel all
night if need be.”
    “I shall be ready, Uncle,” Randall offered. “Who else will
accompany us?”
    “I’ll need Georges, of course. A good valet will prove
indispensable once my new wardrobe is assembled.”
    Randall hid his smile. He wondered exactly when it was his uncle
had become a slave to fashion. “Will Watkins be with us as well?”
    “I’m afraid not.” Rushton glanced about for the butler. “He’s
better off left in the country.” He leaned closer to his nephew. “I’m afraid
his Portman Square days are over. He’s not able to manage the stairs, you know.”
    Randall nodded, understanding. As he recalled there were three
flights of stairs in the townhouse. In the butler’s present tottering condition
he would have a time of it legging it up and down a single set.
    “Once we arrive our first stop will be the tailor.”
    “Weston is said to be the best.”
    Rushton held his hand up. “Weston’s it is, then. We will need
boots, hats, gloves—” The earl stopped and gazed beyond Randall.
    Unsure if his uncle was actually looking at something, or
someone, Randall took a quick glance over his shoulder. There was nothing
there.
    “A new walking stick or two might be in order, also. And of
course a betrothal ring.”
    “Betrothal ring?” Randall sat forward. “Isn’t that a bit premature?”
    “Might meet her that first night. Must be ready.”
    “But, Uncle, really!” All this elaborate planning for a lady—a
lady whose identity he did not even know. But Randall knew, with his uncle’s
uncompromising nature, it was only a matter of time before they discovered who
the lucky lady would be.

Chapter Five
    The motion and bumps of the transport did not distract Larissa
from disquieting thoughts of her aunt. Her father had never spoken of his