Upon a Wicked Time by Karen Ranney

Author:Karen Ranney [Ranney, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Adult
ISBN: 9780380795833
Google: BJsaSllvH7cC
Amazon: 0380795833
Barnesnoble: 0380795833
Goodreads: 799272
Publisher: Avon
Published: 1999-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

“Would you summon my carriage, please.” The footman was dressed in stiff brocade, his wig powdered so heavily he created a cloud around him when he moved. He bowed slightly and Tessa stepped back, thinking it a blessing that powder had lost its fashion except on state occasions and on nights like this, when the Earl of Whitsund was desperate to impress his guests.

“Has Kittridge’s carriage left?”

“A few minutes ago, Your Grace. Shall I send a runner to intercept him?”

She shook her head, waited for her own carriage. Another benefit of being a duchess. The matter of wealth was often whispered about, in fact her own seasons had been filled with conversations of less than romantic intent. Her girlish companions had been equally astute and knowledgeable about the history of a suitor’s family as the sum of his inheritance. In those instances when the matter of wealth was in no doubt, but the degree of it was a mystery, other tangible assets were assayed, such as property. A man was considered acceptable if he had a carriage and four, well-off if he had a landau and a phaeton, and a Midas if he had more than one town carriage, a landau, a phaeton, and a stable filled with matched pairs. The Duke of Kittridge satisfied that requirement and more. But all it meant was that she need not wait until Jered was finished with the carriage but could use her own to return home.

She seated herself, waved the coachman off, and signaled through the open door for the footman.

“Where would you go for a bit of depravity in London?” she asked when he stepped forward. She kept her voice lowered, conscious of the listening ears of the coachman.

“Your Grace?” He was bent nearly in two being, like most footmen, extremely tall. The carriage lanterns mounted on the postern of the carriage illuminated his face and the flush that spread from ear to ear.

“If you were a man, where would you go?” His flush seemed to recede a bit.

He cleared his throat and looked up and down the crowded street.

“There are a great many places in London, Your Grace.”

“Then where would you go gaming?”

“Am I a noble?” He had quite the loveliest smile.

“You are a duke.”

He blinked at her.

“Then there are only three places, Your Grace, that I could recommend.” He named them off, and she asked him to give direction to each of them to the driver.

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