The Ghost by Carole Mortimer

Author:Carole Mortimer [Mortimer, Carole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781914336140
Publisher: Carole Mortimer

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Any chance you are going to pull yourself out from the bottom of that decanter sometime in the near future?” the fair-haired Alaric Montrose, the Duke of Melborne, derided as he entered Spencer’s library unannounced. “You seem to have been constantly foxed, or at the point of being so, for the past few weeks.”

Spencer barely glanced up from where he had moved to sit in a chair beside the lit fire in his library. There was a nearly empty decanter on the table beside him, a full glass of the fiery liquid cradled in both his hands as he stared morosely at the flames in the hearth.

“Do you have news of who was paid to run me through with a sword before I was then held prisoner in a hellhole for over a year?” He didn’t even attempt to ask why Groves, his butler, hadn’t announced Melborne’s presence. He already knew that this man was a law unto himself and always did exactly as he pleased. Marriage had not changed that.

“No,” Melborne dismissed as he dropped into the chair on the other side of the fireplace.

“Then why are you here?”

Melborne chuckled. “You really have become a surly bugger.”

“Your point being?”

Melborne shrugged. “You were altogether too easy and charming before your incarceration. Behaved as if you had not a single bloody care in the world.”

Spencer stared at him for several long seconds before he burst into laughter. “Only you could say someone was too easy and charming!”

Melborne grinned. “It’s good to see you smile again, Spencer.”

An emotional lump immediately caught in Spencer’s throat. In adulthood, the Ruthless Dukes always referred to each other by their titles, never their first name. That Melborne did so now was testament to how sincere he was in his observation.

Spencer straightened in the chair to pour brandy into a second glass before handing it to Melborne. “There really has not been any progress made?” He was aware that he had added little to that progress. His concentration had been splintered since seeing Olivia again and realizing how deeply attracted to her he still was. Kissing her this afternoon had not helped to dispel that desire.

Because he was still in love with her?

The truth was, whenever his thoughts turned to that subject, it was also the moment when he turned to drinking the contents of the brandy decanter in order to try to numb his emotions.

“Well, I would not go so far as to say that.” The other man took a welcome sip from his glass. “We arranged for Mr. Stanley and the Earl of Whitlow to meet and talk a few days ago to see if together they could tell us something more about the men who took you away in the cart.”

“And did they?”

Melborne pursed his lips. “They are now agreed that the English officer Mr. Stanley thought he saw attacking you was, in fact, Whitlow attempting to come to your aid as you were being attacked by the French soldier.”

“So, there never was an English officer attacking me, only a French one?”

“It would seem so,” Melborne confirmed.

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