Once Tempted Read Online Free PDF Page B

unexpected arrival into the world.
    “Harumph! That is none of your business.” Lady Finch’s lips puckered with vexation, and Mrs. Keates knew only too well her employer was considering how she could at least convey some portion of her displeasure with the situation.
    Eventually her eyes lit with triumph. “Send Miranda a note of congratulations on the child’s safe deliverance along with that layette set we stitched last winter.” The lady glanced up at the hallway where Jemmy was in the process of sneaking out to go shooting. “Goodness knows, I’ll never live long enough to see my grandchildren wear any of these things,” she said, waving her hand over the basket of sewing that she always had at the ready.
    Mrs. Keates smiled, as the sound of Jemmy’s pace doubled at the mention of setting up his own nursery.
    “And don’t forget,” Lady Finch said, turning back to the paper at hand, “to make a copy of my instructions on the hiring of a suitable wet nurse and nanny, so that child is properly cared for.”
    Mrs. Keates paused, knowing full well that wasn’t all the lady would be sending.
    And of course, it wasn’t.
    “And add to the note a word of caution,” Lady Finch said in an offhand manner. “Counsel Miranda that now she’s provided that no-account husband of hers with an heir, a separate bedroom with a good lock is entirely in order.”
    Mrs. Keates nodded, holding back the smile that threatened to turn her lips.
    Lord and Lady Finch still shared a bed, but Mrs. Keates thought better of mentioning that point of fact.
    For the rest of the morning and afternoon, through a hasty tea and well past supper, Lady Finch continued to scour her papers. From her chair, she directed Mrs. Keates to send the necessary notes to the various acquaintances she read about, to copy instructions from Lady Finch’s vast repertoire of advice for those in need and to prepare admonishments for those whose deeds necessitated her immediate intervention.
    Finally the lady drew to a close with the most recent paper Jemmy had brought up from town. Usually she skipped immediately to the gossip page, but this time she stopped at the front page.
    “ ’Tis remarkable,” she finally muttered. “The man’s alive. And here I thought he was rotting in hell all these years.”
    Mrs. Keates yawned, exhausted by a long day of unrelenting work, her head throbbing and her hand aching and stiff from all the copying and scribbling she’d done. She didn’t care if it was Nelson himself returned from the grave, all she wanted to do was to find a cold compress for her head and seek the quiet comfort of her bed.
    “Listen to this, Keates,” Lady Finch said, before she began to read aloud: “It is said that miracles do not occur in these modern times, but one has to be astounded to hear the tale of the latest arrival in London. Declared a hero and being given a fête in his honor this Saturday, it is a story that will be oft repeated for months to come.”
    Nodding, Mrs. Keates tried to force a smile and wondered if she shouldn’t order another brace of candles. She could see her correspondence spreading into the wee hours just by the glint of excitement in Lady Finch’s eyes.
    “Oh, here comes the good part,” her ladyship declared. “After surviving a sea battle off the coast of Portugal and days adrift, our brave son of Britannia—” The lady stopped her narrative. “Brave son of Britannia, that has a nice ring to it, don’t you think, Keates?”
    “Yes, quite,” Keates acknowledged without even knowing what it was she was agreeing to. Her mind was caught by the first part of the tale.
    A sea battle off the coast of Portugal . . .
    The remembrance of just such another story filled the pit of her stomach with cold dread.
    “Now here’s the rest,” her ladyship said, drawing the paper closer to her nose. “Our brave son of Britannia endured nearly seven years—”
    Seven years ? No, it couldn’t be. Disbelief rose in