Again, My Lord by Ashe Katharine

Author:Ashe, Katharine [Ashe, Katharine]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Billet-Doux Books
Published: 2015-10-02T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

HE LIKED PLAYING CARDS, although he did not always win. But when she let him win, he seemed to know she had.

He liked books. But when she mentioned titles that she knew he had read, he appeared perplexed. It seemed he had a difficult time believing that she was a reader. She was not a reader, in fact, but that was easily remedied. She visited the doctor, vicar, and Elena Cooke to borrow books, and spent time reading each morning.

He liked furniture carpentry. But when she introduced him to Swinly’s carpenter he had no more to say than any other gentleman she knew, at least not in her presence. When she revealed to him that she knew of his pastime, that he must have told her about it six years ago, he replied that he had only taken it up five years earlier.

He preferred coffee to tea. She taught herself to choke down the bitter brew without cringing.

He preferred brandy to whiskey and whiskey to claret. But whatever she tried, she could not seem to entice him to drink alone with her again.

He was unfailingly patient with Molly and always gracious to Mrs. Whittle.

He treated Mr. Peabody and Mr. Anderson as near to equals as a man of his status could without embarrassing them with inappropriate familiarity.

He seemed suspicious of Alan Smythe’s flirtations with her, though he never spoke a word about it, and he was sincerely interested in the political theories of George Smythe.

He was very kind to Penelope.

Calista wondered about that. Penelope Smythe had neither beauty nor apparently much personality. The daughter of a vastly prosperous merchant, she was nevertheless beneath the notice of a wealthy marquess. Yet each time Calista saw him in the Smythe family’s company, he made a point of speaking with interest to Penelope, to which the girl responded with exasperating shyness.

“My sister-in-law’s hopes for poor Penny aren’t what my niece wishes for herself,” Alan whispered to her at tea as Mrs. Smythe forced her daughter into conversation with the marquess.

“Oh?”

“But my niece is terrified of displeasing her parents. She’ll go along with it, I suspect, whoever they manage to corral for her.”

Calista understood. Six years ago she had been young and foolish enough to bow to the wishes of others. She wasn’t any longer. And she refused to lose this battle.

She doubled down on her seduction of the Marquess of Dare.

She told him directly at breakfast that she was a widow, and then she made her wishes indisputably clear. He avoided her for the rest of the day.

The next day she allowed him to learn of her widowed status from someone else, and then she spent the day doing things she knew he liked. He bade her good night at her bedchamber door with the hope that he might see her again soon.

Apparently he was more cautious with her when she had no husband.

The following day she did not tell him that she was a widow until the end of several hours filled with pleasant activities.

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