When the Duke Returns Read Online Free PDF Page B

Honeydew.
    Honeydew nodded, but Simeon thought he saw anxiety in his eyes. The table was lit with tallow candles fit only for the servants’ quarters, so Simeon couldn’t see his face very clearly, but the reason for Honeydew’s anxiety was soon clear. Next they were each served one paper-thin slice of roast beef.
    The following course was even more surprising. Simeon stared down at a sliced hard-boiled egg, across which was drizzled a brownish sauce, and lost his temper.
    â€œHoneydew,” he said, keeping his voice even with an effort, “would you be so kind as to detail the menu?”
    His mother intervened. “ I designed the menu, as is necessary and proper. You can thank me, if you wish. This is a dish of oeufs au lapin .”
    â€œEggs,” Simeon said. “I see that.”
    â€œWith a sauce made from rabbit.”
    â€œAh.”
    â€œLikely you have grown accustomed to rough fare,” she commented.
    Godfrey was forking up his egg with a sort of desperate enthusiasm that made Simeon wonder about the next course.
    There wasn’t one.
    â€œYou must be joking,” Simeon said, incredulous.
    â€œWe had eggs and meat in the same meal,” his mother said, staring at him. “And a sustaining broth to start. We do not eat lions’ flesh in England, you know! Your father and I always kept a moderate table.”
    â€œThis is not a moderate table,” Simeon said. “This is starvation fare.”
    Godfrey leaned across the table and whispered loudly, “One of the footmen will bring you a large plate of bread and cheese before bed if you wish, Simeon. Sometimes there’s drippings as well.”
    Their mother clearly heard, but she curled her lip and stared at the opposite wall.
    No wonder the poor boy was round. Since his mother was not providing the food a growing boy needed, he had learned to hoard like a hungry beggar—and overeat when he had a chance. Simeon turned to the butler. “Honeydew, ask Mrs. Bullock to send whatever she can serve up within a few minutes, and I do not mean bread and cheese.”
    Honeydew bowed and hastened from the room. His mother huffed and averted her eyes as if Simeon had belched in her presence.
    But Godfrey asked, rather shyly, “Have you ever eaten a lion, brother?”
    The dowager duchess opened her mouth and Godfrey amended his question, “Your Grace?”
    â€œNot on a regular basis,” Simeon said. “There are tribes in the Barbary states who depend on lions as a source offood. I assure you that if they did not eat an occasional lion or two, the lions would multiply and gobble them instead.”
    It was amazing the way his mother could convey utter disdain without glancing at him or saying a word. He turned back to Godfrey, whose eyes were shining with interest. “I once ate a stew composed of three different lions, as I understood it. It was rather gamey and tough, and not a flavor that I would wish to repeat.”
    â€œHave you eaten a snake?”
    â€œNo. But—”
    â€œEnough!” their mother said sharply.
    That was all the conversation enjoyed at the Duke of Cosway’s dinner table.

Chapter Four
    Gore House, Kensington
London Seat of the Duke of Beaumont
February 22, 1784
    â€œD o you suppose that if I ordered a particularly enticing nightdress it might arouse him? Or do you suppose that nothing can arouse him at all? Jemma, do you know anyone we could ask about male incapability?”
    Jemma wrinkled her nose. “ Must we talk of this over breakfast, Isidore? Since the poor man has never seen a nightdress in his life, I advise simplicity. Ribbons rather than laces, for example. He might not be able to handle laces.”
    Isidore looked down at her coddled eggs and felt a little nauseated. “I really do wish my mother were alive.”
    â€œWhat would your mother do in this situation?”
    â€œShe would laugh. She used to laugh a great deal.