Miss Dower's Paragon by Gayle Buck

Author:Gayle Buck [Buck, Gayle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1993-09-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

An unseasonal rainstorm swept the street and tossed the trees as a coach drove up to the steps of a certain town house in Lansdown Crescent. A servant climbed down from the coach and ran up the steps to the town house door to bang hard the knocker.

Thus was the household alerted of the advent of an unexpected visitor.

Lady Pomerancy received the gentleman in her private salon. As he entered the room, she raked him with piercing eyes. A gentleman in his late fifties, he was still handsome even though his eyes were world-weary, and a permanent cynicism seemed to have settled onto his countenance. He was dressed fashionably with an obvious taste for magnificently embroidered waistcoats and rich living.

“You have begun to go corpulent, Horace,” she said.

There was little in her expression or her voice to suggest welcome, but Lord Horace Hughes, Viscount Perigree, merely laughed as he advanced to take the hand that she held out to him. “As brittle as ever, I see. I am glad that you, at least, have not changed, dear sister.”

His glance passed over her with seeming indifference, but those acquainted well with the gentleman would have noticed a shadow of shock in his eyes. Lady Pomerancy was the elder by fifteen years, and from his earliest memories she had always appeared a commanding figure. He had not expected to find his indomitable sister confined to a wheelchair.

“Are you indeed!” Lady Pomerancy smiled satirically. “Pray save your charm for those who are gullible enough to swallow it. Sit down. You will take wine with me, of course.” She raised her hand in command. The footman in attendance stepped forward with a decanter tray and placed it on the small table beside her chair.

Lord Hughes settled himself into a wingback chair. “Of course I shall,” he agreed with a rakish grin. He took the glass offered him and sniffed at the wine before he took a small amount. After a moment of rolling it on his tongue, he nodded to Lady Pomerancy, swallowed, and said, “A superior vintage, my lady. I am impressed that you possess such an excellent cellar.”

“I may not reside in London, but that does not mean I am become a rustic,” said Lady Pomerancy. She set aside her own barely tasted wine and settled back in her chair, her arthritic hands folded in her lap. “Now, to what do I owe this totally unprecedented visit?”

“You were always such an abrupt creature,” Lord Hughes complained. He flicked a glance in the direction of the footman, as well as to the maid that stood in attendance behind Lady Pomerancy’s chair. “Might I not take it into my head to visit my only sister out of family feeling? You wound me to the heart, I assure you.”

Lady Pomerancy snorted, not at all taken in. That her brother wished to speak privately with her was evident, and his uncharacteristic desire for discretion was such that her curiosity was engaged. Quietly she requested that she be left alone with her visitor.

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