The Seduction of an English Scoundrel by Jillian Hunter - Boscastle Family 01 - The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

Author:Jillian Hunter - Boscastle Family 01 - The Seduction of an English Scoundrel [Hunter, Jillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Erotica, Fiction, Historical, General
ISBN: 9781597220972
Google: KQzaXbNaykUC
Publisher: Ivy Books
Published: 2004-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The following morning a small box arrived for Jane from Rundell, Bridge, and Rundell, the jewelers on Ludgate Hill, containing a diamond mouse brooch with onyx eyes. There was no card attached. No message to hint at that passionate encounter in the maze, just this very costly reminder of a moment she could never forget had she so desired. While Caroline and Miranda admired the unusual gift, wondering aloud at its significance, Jane sneaked downstairs to the kitchen to see Cook.“A rhubarb, you say, my lady?” Cook wiped her damp hands on her apron. “Well, I haven’t seen one in ages, but there is an apothecary my aunt visits who sells imported Chinese potions. Dried rhubarb roots and such.”

“Rhubarb roots.” A pleased grin spread across Jane’s face as she pictured repaying Sedgecroft in kind. “Oh, splendid. Have a nice big one wrapped in a pretty box and sent to the marquess at Park Lane. With my best wishes. And tie a pink ribbon around the rhubarb.”

“To the marquess. A rhubarb root. With a pink ribbon.”

“In a fancy box, mind you,” Jane added, before turning away.

Cook stared at the scullery maid frozen at the sink, her face perplexed. “Rhubarb root,” she whispered. “Lord help us. What would a young lady be wanting with a root unless it was one of those hocus-pocus love potions the gypsies sell? Resorting to magic to get herself a man,” she answered herself. “Poor thing.”

The scullery maid threw down her spoon. “I’d like to buy some arsenic to slip into Sir Nigel’s tea, I would.”

“Wouldn’t we both?” Cook said. “But arsenic is too kind, dear, for what that miserable sod has done. I’d like to get my hands around his neck and wring it like a pullet.”

The maid glanced down at the towel Cook was squeezing in her powerful hands. “Calm yourself, Mrs. Hartley. The young lady has the marquess to take care of those matters for her.”

Cook frowned. “And sending him a rhubarb, as if I’m too thick to know what that signifies. No subtlety there, my girl. Not that even an old woman like me cannot see the attraction.”

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