The Lies of Lord John by Fiona Monroe

Author:Fiona Monroe
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9781645631170
Publisher: Blushing Books Publications
Published: 2019-09-26T04:00:00+00:00

Afterward, Margaret scarcely remembered walking back from St John's churchyard. They did not go further along Princes Street to the turning into Castle Street, where Johnson's Haberdashery was; she knew that much. She drifted along the pavements between the church and Charlotte Square as if held aloft by Lord John's arm, floating on a sense of unreality.

A white-capped head was bobbing about down in the area as they approached number seventeen, and Margaret saw the bright, shocked eyes of Anderson espying her return on the arm of a fine-looking gentleman. The maid darted into her underground lair, and by the time they were approaching near the front door, it had been opened wide by Mrs. Cochrane, herself.

She stood framed in the doorway, her fists balled on her hips like an Old Town fishwife, her expression both vindictive and triumphant. "Well, then, Miss Bell. You are in a whole world of trouble."

Lord John was as unruffled as he had been at midnight on Tuesday but much more suitably attired. He swept off his top hat and made a full and formal bow. "Good day to you, madam. How delightful to see you again. I trust you are well? I wonder, is Mr. Cochrane at home?"

"No he is not, sir, not to you. Margaret, come inside at once and get up to your room."

"Please, Aunt," said Margaret, holding on faster to Lord John's arm. "I'm sure my uncle could take five minutes to speak with Lord John. We—he—has something very important to say."

"I really must insist, madam," said Lord John mildly, but in a tone that brooked absolute confidence, raising his hat again briefly.

And before her aunt could do more than splutter another protest, he had mounted the three steps to the front door and swept right past her into the hall. Margaret was pulled along with him, safe in the wake of his assurance and masculine authority.

It was a first thrilling taste, she thought, of what was to come.

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