How To School Your Scoundrel by Juliana Gray

Author:Juliana Gray
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Historical Romance, Regency Romance, Regency England, Love Story, Romance, Princesses
ISBN: 9780425265680
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2013-12-31T14:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

The Earl of Somerton was scribbling furiously at his desk when Luisa entered the study ten minutes later. He looked up and threw down his pen. “There you are! Damn it all, Markham, where the devil have you been? I sent for you ages ago.”

“Walking outside.” The room was hot under the full glare of the morning sun. Luisa removed her coat and tossed it on the armchair. “What’s the matter?”

“I’ve found them.”

Quincy leapt up onto her jacket, turned twice, and settled himself in the center of the brown tweed with an exhausted sigh. He placed his nose on his paws and stared up at her with reproachful eyes.

She turned slowly. “Found them?”

Somerton was folding up a paper with hard strokes. “They’re in Italy. Philip’s nursemaid was given the boot in Milan for being with child. No doubt her ladyship believes it to be mine.” His mouth curved into a sneer.

“My lord.”

“We’ll depart for London at once, and prepare for our journey from there.”

“Our journey?” Luisa swallowed heavily.

He looked up. “To Italy, Markham. They were last seen in Florence.”

“I . . . I’m going with you?”

Somerton’s urgent face stiffened into its familiar mask, the one he wore when assailed by emotion. “What the devil does that mean? Of course you’re going with me, Markham.”

Luisa shook her head, quite slowly, giving herself time to choose her words. “Sir, I cannot be a party to this expedition. I must beg to be excused.”

Somerton’s hands, which were raised to fold the paper, dropped back to the desk. “That is quite impossible, Markham. You’re coming with me.”

“I can’t, sir.”

He pounded the desk. “You will! You must.”

“You can’t ask this of me, sir.” She straightened her spine, straightened her courage. Her brain, still reeling from the information imparted by Olympia, tried to make sense of this new development. Lady Somerton was in Italy. She couldn’t go to Italy. What might Somerton have planned? She dreaded to know. And there was everything else, the desperate hope now revived in her heart: How could she go to Italy, when her people needed her?

“Why the devil not? You’re my secretary. I need you.” Somerton’s voice cracked slightly on the last words. Quincy’s head lifted from his front paws at the sound.

Luisa whispered, “What do you mean to do to her?”

“To her? I don’t mean to do anything to her, except to find out where she lives, to ensure my son is safe. It’s Penhallow I want, by God.”

Penhallow. Her cousin Roland.

Luisa curled her hands behind her back. “Don’t do it, sir. In the end, revenge harms most the one who perpetrates it.”

Somerton barked out a laugh. His eyes were so dark and hard, Luisa felt their despair in her bones. “As it happens, I don’t give a damn. I don’t care if I bleed for it. Penhallow must pay. By God, why do you think I’ve gone to all this trouble, all this time? For her?” His voice was scathing.

He stood behind his desk, large and brutal and snarling, the way a wounded beast might snarl to protect himself.

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