Eloisa James - Duchess Quartet - 3 by A Wild Pursuit

Author:A Wild Pursuit [Pursuit, A Wild]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-01-16T17:27:15.779000+00:00

"Mum will just murder you if you don't," Rosy said with relish. And that was true enough. Rosy's poor mum, Leke's only sister, was stuck in the house caring for Rosy's little sisters. She lived for stories about the goings-on at the earl's house that Leke and Rosy brought from the great house. That and the discarded gossip papers that the strumpet read and threw to the side.

Leke pursed his lips to indicate disapproval and then flattened the piece of paper. "It's from the countess all right," he confirmed. "Looks like she's staying in Wiltshire somewhere." He peered at the direction.

"Can't really make it out. Perhaps Shambly House? That can't be right."

"Never mind where she is!" Rosy said, dancing with impatience. "What did she say? Where's he gone to, then?"

" 'Rees,'" Leke read, " 'I've contracted pleurisy. If you wish to see me alive, please come at your earliest convenience.' "

Rosy gasped. "No!"

Leke was reading it again. "That's what it says, all right. I'm thinking it's a bit odd—what is pleurisy, anyhow?"

"Likely some awful, awful disease," Rosy said, clasping her hands. "Oh, the poor countess! I only hope she's not deformed by it."

"You've never met her. Are you crying?"

For Rosy was wiping away tears. "It's just 50 sad! Here she's probably been pining away for her husband, and longing for him to come back to her, and now it's too, too late!"

"Use your head, girl. If you were the earl's wife, would you be pining for him to return?"

Rosy hesitated. "He's very handsome."

Her uncle snorted. "Like a wild boar is handsome, maybe. Face facts, Rosy. You wouldn't like to be married to the man, would you?"

"Well, of course not! He's awfully old, and so messy, too."

"The countess was better off without him. Funny, though, about that pleurisy. Pleurisy. What is pleurisy?"

"Mum would know," Rosy said.

"Neither of us has a half-day for another fortnight," her uncle said dismissively.

"But you could go over this afternoon, Uncle," Rosy pleaded. "You know you could. The master's gone to Wiltshire, to his wife's deathbed!" Her eyes were huge with excitement.

Leke hesitated and looked at the paper.

"That's our own mistress dying. We must needs know why. What if people ask?"

"I don't see what difference it makes. If she dies, the only thing we need are blacks. That is, if the master even sees fit to go into blacks for her death. Mayhap he and the strumpet will carry on just as usual."

"Oh no, they wouldn't!" Rosy clasped her hands again. "Perhaps this will be enough to reform him.

He'll—"

"You're dreaming, lass. Now up you go to the sitting room, and I'll see how I do with the polishing. If I can finish this lot, I'll nip over to your mother's."

It wasn't until that evening that Rosy and her uncle met up again. Theirs was a small household, due to a combination of the earl's unconventional habits and the reluctance of decent servants to stay in a house of iniquity. Supper in the servants' dining room was merely

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