Julia London by Wicked Angel The Devil's Love

Author:Wicked Angel The Devil's Love [Love, Wicked Angel The Devil's]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-04-25T20:21:28+00:00

Chapter 23

In preparation for a walk the next morning, Victoria, Virginia, and Abbey appeared on the large circular drive, each wearing a simple skirt and blouse, and each sporting a ridiculous straw hat overburdened with silk flowers. Observing from the shadows of the entry, Sebastian glanced at Jones.

“I thought spring had come and gone,” he remarked dryly.

Jones’s expression did not change. “Apparently spring has descended anew and with a vengeance,” he responded without moving his gaze from the three women.

“Here there! You!” A woman’s voice, one that was becoming particularly familiar to the two men, rang from behind. Exchanging wary glances, the two loyal servants turned to see Nan standing in the middle of the tiled foyer with her feet spread apart and her fists stacked resolutely on her hips. She wore a similar hat to the girls and a healthy scowl.

“Madam?” Jones asked smoothly.

“Who is responsible for the menu here?”

“ ’Tis I, madam,” Jones said, bowing gallantly.

“Was it your idea of a jest?” she asked as she came toward him, squinting at him over the rims of her spectacles.

“I beg your pardon?”

“That … that fish you served for breakfast! Good God, man, who can break their fast with that?! We don’t need any fancy foreign dishes in the morning, my good fellow. A caddie of toast, some fruit, and an egg or two will be quite sufficient!” she boomed.

Jones was expressionless. “As you wish, madam,” he said, and stepped aside to let her pass.

“Scared us out of our wits, it did,” she muttered as she brushed by them. Sebastian looked questioningly at Jones.

“Kippers,” Jones said evenly.

“What of them?” Michael asked. Michael and Sam entered the foyer, pausing to accept their hats and gloves from two footmen standing there.

“Madam Nan does not care for kippers,” Jones responded.

Michael chuckled. “Somehow, I am not surprised. Send a boy for our mounts, would you? We’re to Pemberheath.” Michael and Sam both accepted a riding crop from a footman and moved forward. The men stopped simultaneously at the door.

“Good God,” Sam whispered.

“I do not believe it,” Michael said softly at the exact same time as they stared out at the sea of hats.

“The milliner has struck with fury,” Sam remarked.

“Pray she does not fashion men’s hats,” Michael agreed before stepping outside. “G’day ladies!” he called brightly.

The sound of his voice sent a shiver of delight up Abbey’s spine, and she whirled about, smiling brightly. She was puzzled by the curious look on his face until she remembered the godawful hat she wore. The warmth of embarrassment crept into her cheeks as he approached her, and she shyly looked at the ground. Why, oh why, did Ginny have to bring her a new hat?

“Where are you going?” Victoria demanded, more of Sam than Michael.

“Pemberheath. We have some business to attend to,” Sam replied. Abbey glanced up covertly. Michael was studying her hat, all right, with his head cocked to one side. His warm gaze slid from the contraption atop her head to her eyes.

“New hat?” he asked calmly, a smile playing at the corner of his eyes.

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