Mary Anne by Daphne Du Maurier

Author:Daphne Du Maurier [Maurier, Daphne du]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical, Classics, Mystery, Fiction / Historical, Fiction / Romance - Historical, Fiction / Romance - Regency
ISBN: 9781402217111
Google: uoUwPwAACAAJ
Amazon: 1844080889
Barnesnoble: 1844080889
Goodreads: 17899950
Publisher: Phébus
Published: 1954-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

The panic and the fear went instantly, and in their stead a sort of fury seized her. She ran upstairs, found herself a cloak, threw it around her shoulders and opened the front door. It was a warm May evening, the sunset gold and gleaming. She ran along Gloucester Place to Portman Square. She didn’t care who saw her, who turned their heads. There was only one thought in her mind, to see him, confront him. No use until after Greenwood and Adam left. She stationed herself at the corner of Portman Square in sight of the pillared doorway, watching the fanlight. An hour went by. She didn’t care; she waited. Let passing strangers think whatever they chose.

At last dim figures appeared on the doorstep, leaving. It was dusk by now, the whole square was in shadow. Presently his carriage came to the door. That proved it. No single bed at Portman Square tonight, but a ten-foot stretch of thistledown at Fulham. She crossed the square, and as the front door opened, disclosing his servant with his traps and baggage, she mounted the steps and walked into the hall.

“Good evening, Ludovick.”

The servant started, stammered, “Good evening, ma’am.”

“Where is His Royal Highness?”

“Madam, I hardly know.” Shaken and pale, he looked towards the stairway. She gathered up her gown and mounted, calling aloud in clear and ringing terms, “All set for the rough-and-tumble down to Fulham?” A valet she’d never seen appeared from a bedroom. “Get out, and let me pass.” She pushed him aside and the man, too surprised to seize her, let her go.

“So this is the bachelor bedroom. I’m glad to see it.” She stood in the doorway, smiling, wrapped in her cloak. The Duke was bending down to change his breeches, one leg uplifted, his foot balanced on a chair.

“Caught with your breeches down. I beg your pardon. But it isn’t for the first time, after all. That’s how the French observed you once in Holland. And Flanders, too, if memory serves me right.”

He reached for a dressing gown, his face dull purple. She slammed the door and leaned against it, laughing.

“Oh, God, don’t blush for me. I’m used to drawers. I’ve seen that pair fifty times at Gloucester Place, washed by the laundry maid and hung to dry. Well, here’s to your evening.”

She motioned with her hands in gesture of drinking. He pulled on his dressing gown, restoring dignity.

“I implore you,” he said, and his voice was low and hurried. “Leave this house instantly, before my servants throw you out. For the sake of the past, and all that we’ve been to each other.”

“For the sake of the past,” she mimicked; “a fine reminder. I’m to remember, and you’re to slip off and forget. My God, you’ve got some recollections coming. At least you’ve dined, or so your servant said, so you won’t have to wolf the food that’s waiting at Fulham. Cold soup, if I remember, followed by mutton. Does Mrs. Carey like her lamb with

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