Lord Iverbrook's Heir by Carola Dunn

Author:Carola Dunn [Dunn, Carola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780446343312
Google: -DUtHAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0446343315
Barnesnoble: 0446343315
Goodreads: 2789447
Publisher: Walker & Co
Published: 1985-12-31T11:00:00+00:00

* * * *

As Iverbrook left the house, he heard the church clock in the village striking five. It was a pleasant evening, sunny and warm for the time of year. The lane was still muddy, so he walked along the grass verge, shuddering involuntarily as he passed the spot where he had met Peter.

A flock of rust and blue chaffinches was gorging on the crimson berries in the hawthorn hedge. At his approach they rose, flashing the black and white bars on their wings, then quickly settled again behind him. A cock pheasant, its plumage even gaudier, ran ahead of him for a few yards, then forced its desperate way through the hedge as if it knew the shooting season was no more than a fortnight away.

The viscount reached the crossroads and turned left to Kings Milford. A couple was strolling towards him arm in arm. One glance at the man's mulberry coat told his lordship his identity, and the pair was not much slower to recognise him.

“My lord!” exclaimed Polly, pink faced, and pulled away from her companion. “I come across Sir Aubrey in the village and he up and offered to carry me parcels.” Nervously she smoothed her black stuff gown, then snatched a basket from the baronet and fled, showing a very neat ankle as she passed Iverbrook.

Sir Aubrey’s face clashed abominably with his jacket.

“I suppose you will tell my aunt,” he growled.

“You are foolish beyond permission,” said his lordship gently. “What sort of despicable wretch do you take me for?”

“Then I can count on your discretion, my lord? She’s a pretty piece, is she not? But reluctant, I must admit, very hesitant. Not like those hot-blooded wenches in the Indies, eh?” He smiled and winked.

“You mistake me, sir. I will not tell because I mislike bearing tales, not because I have any sympathy with your conduct. The girl’s unwillingness serves to raise her in my estimation, but not you, sir, most certainly not you. Have a care what you are about.”

A shade of grey entered Sir Aubrey’s complexion, so that it nearly matched his coat. He muttered something and hurried round the corner after the maid.

Lord Iverbrook strode on into the village. At the Royal Oak, a low brick building with a gilt sign proclaiming the proprietorship of Jacob Liddell, Esquire, he enquired for Mr. Hastings.

“Where’d ya put the gemmun, Maisie?” roared Jacob Liddell, Esquire.

“In the front room, Jacob!” roared back his wife, an enormous woman presiding at the bar in the taproom.

“Alf, take the gemmun up to the front room,” bellowed the landlord at a tired-looking waiter.

Alf scurried up the stairs in front of Lord Iverbrook, tapped timidly at a door, and announced in a high, squeaky voice, “Gemmun to see you, sir.” He then twitched past Iverbrook and scurried down the stairs again.

“Come in?” said Hasty’s voice, uncertainly. “My dear fellow, how good to see you! I thought I heard that wretched waiter scratching at the door.”

“Pour me a glass of brandy, Hasty,” said his lordship, sinking into a chair.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.