Season For Surrender (A Danby Family Novella Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

be solved and so will mine.” The other more personal details were
his private affair.
    Salisbury snorted. “You’re fooling
yourself. No man fights a duel for a woman he’s marrying simply for
convenience.”
    “I do.” Nick didn’t like the questions
Salisbury’s comment had immediately brought to mind. Why did he fight this
duel? Why not just marry the chit and forget avenging her honor? He didn’t love
her. Hell, he barely knew her. He shoved the questions out of his mind.
Salisbury could bugger off. Nick would fight a duel for any woman who’d been
wrongfully used as Miss Lancaster had. It had nothing to do with her. It was
about honor and making amends for his past.
    “Thank, God,” Nick muttered as Blakely
and the physician approached them and spared Nick any more prying questions
from Salisbury.
    The physician set down his case and
motioned for Nick to hold out his arm. After getting the binding off, Nick
rolled up his sleeve to be poked and prodded. The pain caused beads of sweat to
roll down his forehead but his thoughts were focused on one detail he needed to
know. “How badly hurt is Derwent?”
    The physician raised his head and gazed
at Nick with a frown. “His wound is much worse than your surface wound. He’ll
likely never properly use his right leg again.”
    Nick struggled not to grin. It was
disgraceful that Derwent’s misfortune made him happy, but any man who bedded an
unwilling woman was a dog who deserved to be punished.
    Lost in his thoughts, he jerked when
liquid poured over his skin making it feel as if it melted from his bones. Nick
bared his teeth against the agony. “Devil take it, man. You could’ve warned
me.”
    The man’s bushy eyebrows rose. “I find that
warning people only makes it worse.”
    “I’ll take my chances,” Nick snapped and
stepped backwards as the doctor tried to grab his arm. “What happens now?”
    “Now, I sew you up.”
    Nick slung out his arm, belatedly
realizing what a stupid move it was. Pain caused him to curl his arm back in a
bit, but he forced himself to straighten it out. No time to be weak. “Make it
quick. My work here is done and my future wife is expecting me by ten.”

 

    Lillian paused, her quill hovering above
the sheet of paper on which she balanced numbers to see if the theatre had a
profitable month. This was futile. Her mind was on her future husband and his brooding
masculinity. Goodness! Where had that thought come from? She scowled and threw
down her quill. A foreign sense of hope filled her. Last night, Lord Edgeworth
had seemed good and honorable. Was it possible not all men were like her
father, Lord Derwent and the countless other men who’d tried to bed her?
    She squeezed her eyes shut. This was
foolishness. She knew better than to trust a man. Besides, even if she wanted
to, she didn’t think she could. She glanced at the clock on her desk and fought
her nervousness. Lord Edgeworth’s note she’d received this morning said he’d be
here at ten o’clock.
    A rap resounded on her door as it
creaked open. Fearing her thoughts about Lord Edgeworth were written all over
her face, she jerked her quill off the desk and scribbled numbers to appear
busy. Beatrice slipped into the room, patting her silver coif with one hand and
holding a dress in the other.
    Lillian relaxed, seeing her friend
standing there. Even if Beatrice read some sort of worry on her face, she would
never comment. Since Lillian had rehired Beatrice as the theatre seamstress,
the woman was particularly loyal to her.
    Smiling, Beatrice held a dress out. “I
stayed up all night reworking this gown for your wedding. Best try it on now to
ensure no adjustments are necessary. It turned out quiet nice for an old gown.” Beatrice gave Lillian a pointed look.
    Lillian stood, walked around her desk
and took the gown. She fingered the faux pearls Beatrice had sewn into the
faded silk bodice of the yellow dress and bit her lip to avoid frowning. Her
friend had