The Bewitching Hour by Diana Douglas

Author:Diana Douglas
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-08-15T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The following morning dawned with ground fog as thick as soup. By early afternoon most of the mist had lifted but the sun stayed hidden and the air was clammy and damp. It would soon be drizzling, but Stratton was not in a mood to notice or care. At present, he was single minded in his purpose. He was about to ask Miss Priscilla Hawthorn for her hand in marriage. Last night had been a proposal of sorts, but he decided the right thing to do was to go down on bended knee, tell her he loved her and put an engagement ring on her finger. As Priscilla’s mother and stepfather were out of the country, he would go through the formality of speaking to Mrs. Hutton, but Priscilla was of age and there was no need for anyone’s permission.

He strode up the short walkway and knocked on the front door. Seconds later, the front door swung open and he was presented with the butler’s expressionless face.

“Good afternoon, Beldon. I’ve come to call on the ladies.”

The butler allowed himself a faint look of surprise. “I’m afraid Mrs. Hutton is out visiting, my lord.”

“Miss Hawthorn expects me. I presume she’s at home?’

“Yes, my lord. Come in.” Beldon took his hat and gloves, then led him into the drawing room. “Please have a seat and I’ll tell Miss Hawthorn that you’re here.”

Stratton stood by the fireplace and checked his pocket, making certain the ring was still safely inside. He knew that Priscilla would likely be suffering a few pangs of guilt. He was certain that in her mind, the marriage, or at the very least, the marriage proposal should have come first, but passion rarely took heed of its victim’s preconceptions. It mattered little. He would propose and she would soon be his bride.

“She isn’t receiving visitors, my lord.” Stratton looked up. The butler’s face gave Stratton no indication of her reason.

He frowned with concern. “Is she ill?”

“No, my lord.”

“Then why isn’t she receiving visitors?”

“She didn’t say. She requested that I escort you to the door.”

Escort him to the door? Confused and angry, Stratton swiftly crossed the room but when he reached the corridor, he turned in the direction of the staircase instead of following Beldon to the door. “I assume Miss Hawthorn’s chambers are on the second floor?” he called out over his shoulder.

“You mustn’t go up there.” Beldon trailed behind him doing a plausible imitation of a mama bird protecting her young. “My lord, this isn’t proper.”

Stratton grabbed the banister and climbed the steps two at a time. He reached the top of the steps and stared down the long corridor. The irony of the situation struck him. They had done much the same last night. He threw the first door open and seeing it was empty went to the next.

“I must ask you to leave, my lord.” Beldon scurried past him and stopped about halfway down the corridor. He looked defiantly at Stratton who was opening and slamming doors shut as he progressed down the hall.

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