Seduction of an English Beauty by Miranda Jarrett

Author:Miranda Jarrett [Jarrett, Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Romance, Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781408901120
Publisher: Harlequin Mills & Boon, Limited
Published: 2008-11-01T01:56:58+00:00

“Another glass of sherry, Miss Wood?” Diana reached for the bottle, eager to oblige. In a moment or two, the servants would come to clear away the remnants of their lunch from the table before them, and the chance to refill Miss Wood’s glass—and to assure the governess of a deeper nap—would be lost. “Signor Silvani’s choice for us today was a fine one.”

“As was the roasted squab,” said Miss Wood with a small sigh of satisfaction. With dainty fingers, she held out her empty glass to Diana. “I fear the signore’s cook is spoiling us dreadfully, my lady. I don’t wish to think of how sadly our shipboard fare will compare on our voyage home.”

“Then best to enjoy it while we’re here.” Diana tried not to look again at the clock as Miss Wood sipped at the wine. It was nearly half-past twelve now. She needed her governess to be soundly asleep as soon as possible, so she could steal away to meet Will Carney. She didn’t know how long Will would wait if she were late, nor did she want to find out what he’d do if she weren’t able to come at all.

She raised her hands over her head and yawned dramatically, trying to put the idea of sleep into Miss Wood’s head. “I’m feeling quite weary this afternoon, aren’t you?”

Miss Wood frowned. “I pray you’re not coming down with some illness,” she said with concern. “You shouldn’t be weary. We’ve done little this morning except read and write letters.”

“But letter-writing and reading can be just as wearying as riding about,” Diana said. “Perhaps even more so. Page after page after page, word after word after word after word after—”

“I understand, my lady,” Miss Wood said, suppressing a small yawn herself. “And I agree that a brief rest might not be amiss. It is the Roman way, you know, and while we are here in Rome—oh, that must be the servant to clear the table. Entrare!”

But instead of a footman or maidservant, Signor Silvani himself came through the door, carrying a thick white letter on a pewter charger. With a bow, he presented the letter to Diana, and smiled warmly.

“For the fair lady,” he said. “From the English consulate this very moment. I did not trust its delivery to any other than myself.”

“Grazie,” Diana said as she took the letter. Their round-faced landlord was notoriously curious, and most likely he’d brought it himself not to be trustworthy, but hoping to glean something useful. Not that she blamed him; she was curious, too. She slipped her finger beneath the seal, and opened the heavy, cream-colored sheet.

“What is it, my lady?” Miss Wood asked, sipping her wine. “Not ill news, I trust?”

“Oh, no,” Diana said, passing the sheet to her. “We’ve been invited to a party by Sir Thomas. But instead of the consulate, it’s to be held at some English gentleman’s private palazzo.”

“Well, that’s very nice of the English gentleman.” Miss Wood read the letter for herself. “Though I must say Friday is rather short notice.

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