Elliott, Elizabeth by Scoundrel

Author:Scoundrel [Scoundrel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The clock struck one o’clock in the Earl of Crofford’s library the next day. Remmington was nowhere in sight. Lily unfolded the note that had arrived from him yesterday morning and reread it for the hundredth time.

Lily,

My deepest regrets, but an urgent matter arose and I will be unable to accompany you to the park. I will call upon you Friday, at one o’clock. Please be ready to depart for Basildon at that time.

R.

His urgent matter probably wore a skirt. So much for his offer of friendship. She released a frustrated sigh and tucked the note into the sleeve of her gown. The voice of doubt had whispered in her head the past two days, planting suspicions about everything Remmington had said to her that night in his carriage until she felt certain of only one thing. She meant nothing at all to him. He’d toyed with her as he toyed with every woman foolish enough to get too close to him. He was late. He had no intention of taking her to Basildon. She would never see him in this house again.

“Glaring at that clock won’t hasten his arrival.”

Crofford made the remark without looking up from the papers that lay scattered across his desk.

Lily smoothed the corners of the scroll that she’d tried for an hour to translate. She sat on the settee near her father’s desk, and the scroll rested on top of a pile of books. Her hand reached beneath the parchment and she nudged the books farther away to make more room for her work. Unfortunately, the stack was too tall and the books began to slide sideways from the small couch. They fell onto the carpet in a series of soft thumps. She leaned down and restacked the books into a haphazard pile on the floor.

Another five minutes passed as she stared unseeing at her work. The hatch marks weren’t flowing into words with their usual ease. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but the ticking of the clock. The soft, monotonous sound drove her crazy. Where was he?

“Oh, here’s a piece of news,” her father said. His finger tapped an ancient parchment, then he rummaged through a nearby pile of books. “Where is that book on Alexander the Great?”

Lily retrieved the volume from the toppled stack on the floor. “Another reference to Alexander?” She nodded toward his scroll.

“Eh, what?” He looked distracted by the question, an expression Lily found familiar. When the earl immersed himself in his work, the outside world ceased to exist. “Alexander? He’s off to Egypt to find a woman. Candice, Canyphe, something like that.”

Lily stretched her arm across the back of the settee, then rested her head on her arm. She looked at her father sideways. “Is he in love with her?”

“I don’t know. It’s all rather cryptic.”

Lily sighed. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

Crofford glanced up, tilted his head to one side to look at her, then straightened again and returned to his work. “Oscar says that Remmington took liberties with you the night before last at the front door, in plain view of anyone who might happen by.

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