Season For Desire by Theresa Romain

Author:Theresa Romain [Romain, Theresa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2014-08-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Wherein Giles Does Not Throw His Fork

The subject of the puzzle boxes, the codes, and the identity of the unknown Maria occupied the party at dinner that afternoon until Giles felt he could have thrown his fork at the wall. Just two things prevented him from doing so: First, that there was every chance he would miss the wall and hit one of the enormous glass windows instead.

And second, the roasted widgeon was delicious. Besides the widgeon, there was a beef tongue in redcurrant sauce, potted shrimps, and a variety of vegetables. Broccoli, artichokes, and tender little lettuce leaves. Best not to throw the fork until the cloth was removed.

“Yes,” Miss Corning answered Lady Dudley for perhaps the seventy-fifth time. “I wrote to all the Marias I identified through my cousin’s correspondence, too. Only two remain from whom I haven’t received a reply.”

In dressing for dinner, the new arrival had exchanged the small feathers in her headdress for larger plumes. Enjoying having money and being a peacock for the first time; well, Giles couldn’t blame her for that. If he found that someone had given his sister Rachel a fortune—and that someone else was trying to take it from her—he’d urge her to spend every penny of it however she wished.

Miss Corning had paused after her explanation; now she looked abashed. “I hope you do not mind, my lord—my lady—but I gave the direction of Castle Parr should either of the Marias wish to reply. I did not mean to presume by doing so, only I knew I should not be returning to my brother’s household.”

“Quite all right.” Lord Dudley smiled. “We send a servant to the village for mail almost every day. Lady D, I haven’t seen any odd letters arrive for a few days, have you?”

“Thank you, my lord. You are very good.” Miss Corning’s voice wavered a bit.

She must have traveled with everything she owned. No wonder she was so relieved the Dudleys were willing to take her in. But that seemed to be their way. It was a wonder they were so rarely visited; maybe their hospitality wasn’t known. Giles had met a number of worthless hangers-on in London who would shoulder their way into any aristocratic household with which they had the slimmest of family connections.

“And you, young Rutherford.” Lady Irving’s blacksmith hammer of a voice clanged at Giles’s ears. “What are you going to do with yourself now?”

Giles stared at her. His stomach gave an uncomfortable twist.

Lady Irving waved her knife. “Now that Miss Corning has opened the puzzle box, of course. You’ve got nothing more to work on while you bill and coo.”

“Oh, that.” His stomach untwisted. “You’re right, I need some new occupation. Maybe I could decorate a few of the statue heads in the antique passage.” He snapped his fingers. “Wait a moment; I can’t. Because you did that already while you billed and cooed.”

“Son, really,” said Richard mildly. “No need for such rough talk. You must feel free to decorate those statue heads all you like.

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