The Courtship Read Online Free PDF Page A

a bloody lot of work, particularly in a commercial context. You know, you never did tell me how you endure these infernal house parties. Tony thinks we’ve been sent here to convince us to take brides out of sheer self-preservation. A bachelor’s pillorying earned by our failure to become engaged this past winter.”
    A little dart of pain lanced through the sense of commiseration Esther had been fancying she shared with Lord Percival. A man who complained of being marital prey did not regard present company as a threat.
    Which she wasn’t. He was a duke’s son, after all.
    “I do as little as possible to burden the help, for one thing. These parties are very trying for them, and they can be unexpected allies.”
    “Sound advice. Mannering has to do double duty, serving both myself and Tony. But how do you… endure ?”
    His tone held genuine consternation, a sentiment Esther could share all too easily.
    “Nap in the middle of the day, my lord. Don’t drink to excess ever , and keep a chair wedged under your door latch if you’re alone in your room. If your drink tastes the least strange, set it aside, the same with your food. Retire to your room on the pretext of seeing to correspondence, and you should be given some privacy. I also ride out on the fine days but take a groom with me, even when I’d prefer a solitary outing.”
    His examination of her this time was not accompanied by a smile. “I see you are a veteran of these gatherings, Miss Himmelfarb. Why aren’t you married, if you find them so tedious?”
    “Maybe for the same reasons you aren’t married.” Even that was probably saying too much. Esther retrieved her empty cup from where it sat on the ground between them. “I ought to be going in, my lord.”
    “Percival, or Percy to my friends. We can be friends, can we not?”
    He was offering something—friendship, of some offhand, passing variety—even as he removed from consideration the curious, budding, silly notion that he might have noticed her as a man notices a young woman.
    “I must be going.” Esther scooted to the edge of the bench only to find her companion on his feet, his hand under her elbow.
    “I’d see you in, Esther Himmelfarb, and even up to your room, but we both know what gossip that might cause. My thanks for your company and for sharing your posset.”
    She turned to go, but his hand was still on her arm and his fingers closed around her wrist. A few beats of silence went by while Esther cataloged impressions.
    He was wonderfully tall and substantial, a man upon whom even an Amazon like herself could lean, confident of his support.
    At the end of a long day, his scent was still beguilingly pleasant. Not overwhelming, not cloying, just a teasing hint of cedar and spices that made her want to close her eyes and breathe through her nose.
    And he was near enough that Esther could feel the heat of his body in the moonlit shadows.
    “Good night, Esther.”
    “Good night, my—Percival.”
    Would he kiss her? She hoped he would, a token kiss to her cheek, a small memory of pleasure in the midst of purgatory, a touch to make all that had been shared before a little more real.
    His lips brushed her forehead before he dropped her wrist. “Sweet dreams, my lady.”
    She was being dismissed. Esther stepped back—did not curtsy—and left him standing in the garden, bathed in cool, silvery moonlight and solitude.

Two
    “Moreland! You will attend me! Hippolyta Morrisette has sent news!”
    Her Grace’s trajectory into the breakfast parlor was checked by the need to turn sideways to fit her panniers through the doorway, though this did nothing to stop her prattling. “Not four days into the house party, and both boys are already much admired by several young ladies.”
    George, His Grace, the Duke of Moreland, rose from his place at the table. “Good morning, Your Grace. I trust you slept well?” He tossed a meaningful glance at old Thomas standing at attention by the