Susanne Marie Knight Read Online Free PDF Page A

sister temporarily in residence here, that fact was passing strange.
    What was the minx up to now?
    Noises from the main part of the townhouse intruded, drowning out the cozy crackling from the fireplace. David stood. His seclusion was at an end.
    After a knock on the study door, Stevens entered. “My lord,” he bowed. “Lady Ingraham and a Mr. Fenwick have arrived from Bath.”
    “Mr. Fenwick?” That name did not conjure up an image. “Who is this fellow?”
    The butler’s formal white wig seemed to flap on the man’s head. “An…acquaintance of her ladyship, sir.”
    Obviously Stevens disapproved of this Mr. Fenwick. David sighed. What imbroglio had his mother got into this time?
    “Where is Lady Ingraham, Stevens?”
    “In the Blue Drawing Room, my lord.”
    David paced the small area of his study. “Is Lady Petunia about?”
    “Her ladyship has not yet returned from shopping, sir,” was the butler’s prompt response.
    David nodded. He understood women well. The lure of drapers on New Bond Street could not be denied. Especially when his sister’s protégée was in dire need of an updated wardrobe.
    “Miss Branford is with Lady Petunia, I presume.”
    “No, milord. The young lady is still in her room.”
    “Indeed? At this hour?” Good God, she wasn’t a languishing sort, was she? Prone to fanciful ills? Always going into a decline? She must have been, for what female did not wish to go shopping?
    He paused in front of the fireplace. That thought was unkind. He should be charitable. After all, Miss Branford had traveled far. She had drifted off to sleep in the drawing room last evening. Perhaps she still needed additional rest.
    “I shall join Lady Ingraham directly, Stevens. Have refreshments sent to the drawing room.”
    “Yes, my lord.” Stevens bowed and left the room.
    David put his ledger away, brushed back his hair and straightened the points on his waistcoat. Undoubtedly, his mother had obtained a new cicisbeo, therefore she would be in one of her coquettish moods. Dealing with her when that was the case was fatiguing in the extreme. Only the late earl had been able to reign in his flirtatious Countess.
    He sighed again. The dear woman was well into her dotage — five and fifty, if she was a day. And so like her daughter, in many ways.
    As he had wondered about his sister, now he pondered his mother. Would the Countess of Ingraham ever grow up?

    With each passing day, Miss Hasbrouck became more accustomed to her affluent but rather gloomy surroundings. She became familiar with her two new charges as well. The motherless boys, just five and six years old, took to her straightaway, and enjoyed every expression of affection that she bestowed. Gentle hugs, a ruffling of their hair, soft kisses on their cheeks at bedtime…the children had quite engaged her heart. They were so very darling.
    Their father, on the other hand, was another matter. He was a man of mystery. Very tall with dark hair hanging down his forehead in windswept curls, Lord Innis seemed to hold her in contempt. His stormy, dark brown eyes silently disapproved of everything she did. He —
    The noise of a carriage door slamming shut startled Bethany from her writing. She glanced over at the bedchamber’s ormolu clock. Goodness! It was after two in the afternoon. Had Petunia finished shopping? Was that her outside, arriving back at the townhouse?
    Bethany rushed over to the window in time to see two people walk toward the entrance. The top of a blue velvet poke bonnet came into view along with the brushed beaver top hat of a gentleman. From this vantage point, it was difficult to determine if she recognized either of the two. Perhaps the lady was her benefactor, Lady Petunia. She looked closer. No. The hair spiraling out of the poke bonnet was darker than Petunia’s. Plus the woman was of a sturdier build.
    Bethany exhaled a sigh of relief. Lady Petunia would not take kindly to her protégée still being abed. Bethany had