Duke by Day, Rogue by Night

Author:Katherine Bone [Bone, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Fiction, General, Historical
ISBN: 9781440557446
Publisher: F+W Media
Published: 2012-10-28T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Candelabras illumined the twilight. Light flickered down upon the decadently clad crowd striding through the foyer of Throckmorton Hall. Patrons assembled to approach the receiving line, then meandered into the western ballroom where a large table lining the wall enticed with effervescent lemonade, wine, opulent fruits, biscuits, tea, and chocolate. A piano sonata by Pleyel heightened the atmosphere as guests roamed throughout the rooms, one by one. Later a quartet of pianoforte, cornet, violin, and cello were scheduled to play a minuet. Pink and white lilies, roses, and peonies scented the hall. To all who entered Throckmorton and viewed the décor, it was thought to have been masterfully done. Only one, however, remained unaffected.

Constance took her place beside her father in the receiving line, welcoming each guest, appearing modestly composed in a sea of white. Outwardly, she waxed content as she flashed one smile after another without any sort of joviality reaching her heart. Nothing in the room excited her. Nothing about the night intrigued. She was doomed to a life of torturous consort, one from which there was no escape. A shiver traveled up and down her spine as thoughts turned to the last dance, when her father would announce her engagement to Burton. Were it not for her unborn babe and her promise to Simon, she would never have played her part in this gala.

She stood woodenly beside her father, acknowledging one patron after another as they passed through the receiving line. Tête-à-tête between her father and members of the House of Lords soured. Women praised the decor and yet nothing, not the presence of dear friends or the sparkle of finery generated her enthusiasm. The conversation muted as she mentally took note of the ticking clock. Not even the pleasant return of Lieutenant Henry Guffald, who bowed stiffly and took her hand in his in an attempt to place a tender kiss upon her finger, roused her to smile. His action, though sincere, was quickly interrupted by her father. Guffald’s blue eyes instantly hardened in response to the slight. He rose to his full height, militaristically handsome.

“Lieutenant,” she murmured, both thrilled to be reminded of one of the most adventurous times in her life and afraid someone would learn of it. She peered at their guests to see if anyone noticed their conversation.

“Lady Constance. It is a pleasure to see you — again,” he whispered. His eyes flashed unreservedly and this alarmed her. Would he divulge her secrets? The idea slightly unnerved her. Light flickered off the small scar slitting his brow, a reminder of his sacrifice aboard the Octavia, marring his too handsome face, and providing him a new and foreboding dangerous aura. A small price, his eyes confided. One he’d been most willing to bear.

“Lieutenant Guffald,” her father cued, startling her.

Seemingly unaffected, the lieutenant nodded and moved on. Absentmindedly, Constance found herself searching for his tall form as he disappeared among the throng. Stretching up on her tiptoes, she then heard the oddest voice dance above the stream of guests, crowding the doorway and her attention was diverted.

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