The Mysterious Miss M by Diane Gaston

Author:Diane Gaston [Gaston, Diane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2004-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

After nearly half an hour of more awkward conversation, Ned and Devlin entered the parlour. The brothers looked congenial. Madeleine did not know if this boded good or ill. In any event, what more pain could the Marquess inflict than making Devlin leave her? Devlin would leave her no matter what. The Marquess could not, after all, know her identity.

Ned surveyed the parlour and elected to stand near the mantel, upon which he leaned casually. The leg nearest the fire felt too much heat, but he ignored the discomfort. He had a good view, a position of power.

He had been pleased to be able to converse with his brother in an amicable way, though he sensed Devlin’s wariness. He glanced at his wife and perceived her discomfort, as well. Miss England was more of a puzzle. She seemed serene, poised, untouched by the tensions crackling throughout the room.

Ned rubbed the elegant carving of the mantel with his thumb. The time had come. He met his wife’s eye. She inhaled sharply. He would bring Serena her heart’s desire.

He looked down on the young woman who should never have been invited to his wife’s home. ‘Miss England,’ he began in a mild voice, hoping it sounded friendly.

She lifted her gaze to him, the impassive expression still in her eyes.

‘What think you of our house here in town?’

A flicker of surprise showed in her face, but she quickly changed her expression to one he could not read. Mocking? Melancholic? ‘It is a magnificent home, my lord. Very fine.’

He smiled. ‘I am pleased that you think so.’

She returned his smile. ‘I did not realise you sought my good opinion.’

That statement must be sarcasm, but he could not tell for certain. He ignored it, clearing his throat. ‘This house pales in comparison to Heronvale. Heronvale is a piece of heaven.’ Ned glanced at Devlin. ‘It was a marvellous place to be reared, was it not, Devlin?’

Devlin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He lounged in a chair, but one leg crossed over the other swung with nervous energy. ‘It had fine stables.’

Ned laughed, hoping to dispel his brother’s tension. ‘My brother saw little of Heronvale except on the back of a horse. Did you know that, Miss England?’

The smile was fixed on her face. ‘Indeed.’

This woman gave up little of her feelings, Ned thought.

‘Miss England is an accomplished horsewoman,’ Devlin said.

‘Is that so?’ Ned remembered the child’s excitement seeing the horses of his curricle. He had assumed her passion for horses had come from her father. ‘You and my brother have that in common, then.’

Miss England shrugged her reply.

This was like fencing with an opponent reluctant to reveal his skill. Perhaps he should begin the attack.

He strolled over to a decanter of claret, lifting it to offer its contents to the others. Devlin shook his head and Serena mumbled ‘No, thank you.’

‘I should like some,’ Miss England said, and Ned had the foolish impression that they had each chosen their weapons. He handed her a glass and poured one for himself.

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