Love Letters From a Duke: Bachelor Chronicles, Book 3 by Elizabeth Boyle

Author:Elizabeth Boyle
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi
Tags: Historical
ISBN: 9780060784034
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2007-08-27T14:00:00+00:00

Thatcher had been about to march upstairs and finish his discussion with Felicity when a knock at the door stopped him in his tracks. A freight man was there with a wagonload of trunks and furniture, and it had been up to him to help the man and his sons unload them into the already crowded foyer. By the time they were finished and he’d made his way up the stairs, it was to catch the last of their visitor’s announcement.

“I have had word from your father.”

He staggered to a stop. Lord Langley lived?

He strode through the door, his gaze going instantly to Felicity. It struck him that it wasn’t the news that her father lived that had her regarding her guest with blatant skepticism, but rather that her father would use this woman to send a message.

“And who are you?” their guest asked, sidling forward like a cat…one that scratched quite happily.

“Thatcher,” he replied, tipping his head to avoid her gaze. He’d met enough women in Portugal and Spain like this one, ladies who used their titles and looks to gain whatever they needed at whatever cost and from whatever side currently held control.

“This is our footman,” Felicity told her.

“Ah, yes, the livery!” she said, her gaze sweeping over the jacket with a bemused and calculating eye. “I remember it well.”

“See, I told you it was Nanny Jamilla,” Tally was saying, but no one was paying her any heed.

Felicity stepped between him and their guest. “Thatcher, this is our former nanny, the Duchesse du Fraine. And her servants, Nada and Aziz.” The pair bowed slightly to him, while the duchesse looked him over from head to toe, a sly smile forming on her bloodred lips.

“Princess Kounellas,” the woman purred, coming closer and bringing with her a tide of thick perfume. “Felicity forgets herself. Now I am Princess Jamilla Kounellas. I have just arrived from my dear departed husband’s kingdom.”

He swore he heard Thalia muttering, “Where she should have stayed.”

The woman not only looked like a cat, but apparently had the same hearing. “Impossible, darling!” she declared. “I feared for my life.”

Nada’s gaze rolled upward, as if she had heard this story too many times to count.

Jamilla continued, “For some reason, his people blamed me for his sudden death! I explained that he was old, that these things happen, but no one would listen to me.” She gave a negligent shrug of her shoulders. “His advisors were calling for an inquiry, refusing to release my wedding settlement, calling for my arrest. Can you imagine such impertinence? So of course I was forced to flee.” She glanced around her audience and then let out a long, breathy sigh. “Now, on to more important matters. Aziz, the list,” she said, snapping her fingers. She took the sheets of parchment and thrust them at Thatcher. “I will need every thing here before nightfall. See to it. But before you go, send at least three of your best fellows down for my trunks.”

Felicity cleared her throat.

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