Enchanted Rendezvous: A Tangled Hearts Romance by Ward Rebecca

Author:Ward, Rebecca [Ward, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2014-02-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Turning her back on Lord Brandon, Cecily began to trudge toward the village. She was determined not to turn around and see whether he was following, but the silence stretched and stretched. Perhaps he had changed his mind and was not coming after all, she thought.

Cecily glanced over her shoulder and looked straight into his dark eyes. “Ah,” he drawled, “the fair damsel relents and forgives me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Lord Brandon.”

Brandon smiled at her icy tone. “Kind of you to say so, ’pon my honor. Whether Andrews will ever forgive me for going wadin’ in my clothes is another matter. If they saw me now, my friends would give me the cut direct.”

“I wonder that you do not return to London,” Cecily snapped.

“It’s too hot at this time of year. Stiflin’. The stench would be excruciatin’ for someone with delicate sensibilities.” Lord Brandon waved a languid hand. “Besides, I am very fond of Lady M.”

It was almost on the tip of Cecily’s tongue to ask him why, if he was so fond of his godmother, he was running the risk of embroiling her in his schemes. With difficulty she reminded herself that she had no proof of his involvement with the smugglers.

Lord Brandon continued, “I used to come to Dorset every summer until I was twelve. My brothers, all several years younger than I was, stayed home in Pershing, but I begged to come here.”

Cecily remained dampeningly silent. This did not deter Brandon, who drawled on, “My mother, the duchess, was a busy woman. She had her hands full with arrangin’ and attendin’ balls and assemblies and musical evenin’s. She had the younger boys and our sister to deal with, too—Elizabeth’s come-out is still the talk of the ton—so she was glad to pack me off to Lady M.”

In spite of herself, interest stirred. Cecily rationalized that if she could get Lord Brandon talking about himself, he might make some incriminating slip.

“Did your father also wish to send you to Dorset?” she asked.

“Pershing was rarely home. He was a soldier while I was growin’ up, always away on some military campaign. Then Mother died, and he turned to politics. But whenever he was in residence at Pershing, we toed the mark.”

While he spoke, Brandon saw his father clearly. With his dark, flashing eyes, decisive voice, and air of command, he had won battles on the field and in parliament by sheer force of personality. Men were anxious to stay in his good graces, and it was rumored that even Wellington did not care to cross the Ice Duke.

“When he gave a command, we obeyed—that was about the sum of our relationship with Pershing.” Cecily noted the dry note in Lord Brandon’s voice as he added, “His mission was to make men of all of us. No easy task.”

Not for poor, shiftless Leonard, who rebelled against authority and spent years in useless profligacy before marrying and raising a quiverful of brats as unruly as himself. Not easy for

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