Saving Grace Read Online Free PDF Page B

more what I had in mind.”
    “I believe there may be some — information — about Mr. Preston among the letters,” Kingsley said. “It seems I saw his name on the top of a packet that arrived from London just a few days ago.”
    “Oh?” Nicholas arched a tired eyebrow. “Very well, then. I’d best have a look.” He dearly hoped it was not from any of the solicitors he’d met with at the beginning of this latest trip, almost two months ago. He’d garnered what he’d believed were secure promises from all of them, and he had no desire to discover that any of his plans had gone awry.
    Kingsley lit the candelabra in the study, gave a low bow and exited into the hall. Nicholas started toward his desk, feeling put off by papers stacked there. He’d been neglectful of late, and soon he’d have to spend time making things right here, managing the Sutherland holdings as he used to. But for now, the property down the road, the one adjoining the western edge of his land, was of far greater concern.
    Looking for any information regarding that property — or more specifically, Mr. Samuel Preston, its owner — Nicholas settled at his desk and sifted through the missives as quickly as possible. He had but a few envelopes remaining when an offending one surfaced. He’d know that handwriting anywhere. A wave of hatred came over him, so intense that Nicholas’ jaw clenched, as if holding back his abhorrence. He flipped the envelope over anyway, not the least surprised to see the Preston seal. With fury, he ripped it open.
    How dare he?
    The gall of the man, writing to him, when he knew Nicholas would love nothing more than to shoot him down in a duel.
    He wrested the card free, wishing it were an invitation to duel. And that I could challenge him. A scripted card fell onto the desk. Nicholas stared at it in utter disbelief.
     
    Harvest Ball
    The Attendance of
    Lord Nicholas Sutherland’s
    Company is requested at Preston Manor
    Saturday, the 16th of September
    Grand Entry 8:00 pm
     
    He wished to shoot Preston, and here the neighbor was inviting him to a party. Madness. But then, the man had never been right from the beginning. New money at play again, Nicholas supposed. What else can it be?
    If Samuel Preston believed that an invitation was the way to mend fences, he was so far out of his mind that shooting the man would be a kindness.
    Nicholas tossed the card aside and flipped halfheartedly through the remaining packets without seeing the one to which Kingsley had referred. Irritated over the ball invitation, Nicholas gave up the search, shoving the correspondence aside to be dealt with later. He’d been deprived of his bed most of the past year because of Preston, and he’d be jiggered if he’d allow the man another night. Whatever was on the desk, it could wait until morning.
    Feeling somewhat cheered by the prospect of a good meal and his own bed, Nicholas left the study and returned to the faintly lit front hall. He took the stairs two at a time, then made his way down the long, dark corridor at the top, arriving at his bedroom as another yawn overcame him.
    He entered the chamber and closed the door, feeling some of the tension of the past weeks leave as he did so. Across the room, a low fire burned in the grate, and Nicholas smiled to himself, once again impressed with Kingsley’s efficiency. The man was overworked doing the job of a butler and ten other servants. Someday, when Nicholas planned to stay here for good, he’d change that, but for now, Kingsley and Mrs. James were models of efficiency, keeping the few rooms he used orderly and sterile as he liked them. Nothing was ever out of place. There were never any surprises. Unlike life in London, life at Sutherland Hall was quiet and predictable.
    If not quite peaceful — the devil take Preston. Nicholas doubted he’d ever know a moment of tranquility again, and it was entirely the fault of his neighbor.
    With his eyes somewhat adjusted to the dim