Barons, Brides, and Spies: Regency Series Starter Collection Volume Two by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Romance, Historical, Fiction
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2019-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jeffrey stared moodily at the drink in front of him as he sat in his library, alone, in the near-dark. It had been a day since he had spoken with Phoebe, and he had not done much of anything. Oh, he had seen to his paperwork, he had met with his secretary, he had breakfasted with his family—who were filled with remarks about how he was compensating for his cheeriness by becoming even more surly than his usual self—and he had even taken a walk with Maxwell through the nearby park. But now he sat, brooding. Maxwell snoozed at his feet, twitching now and then as he let out sleepy barks, likely dreaming of chasing after birds and rabbits, Jeffrey thought with a rueful grin. If only life were as simple as that of a dog.

But, of course, it wasn’t. No, life was filled with women you shouldn’t want but did anyway, who surprised you at every turn. It was filled with responsibility that you never asked for, but that others would do anything to take from you. And it was filled with indecision, at least for him. On what was the right action to take, on whether he should follow his heart or his head. On the greater questions of life, such as whether or not society was based upon the correct foundation.

Phoebe Winters had upended his entire world—well, every part of his world that wasn’t already chaotic. The aspects of which he thought he had entirely under control. Now … he wasn’t so sure about anything.

There was a knock at the door and Jeffrey said nothing, hoping that if he were silent enough, whoever was desiring entrance would go away and he could remain deep within the soft leather of his mahogany chair. He was not so lucky, however, as the door slowly eased open, and Maxwell woke up and gave a traitorous cheerful yip of welcome.

“Shush,” he said as he took another sip of his drink. Whiskey tonight. He needed something more than brandy, of which he was typically quite fond.

“Jeffrey?” came the soft voice, and he sighed. If there was one woman he could never turn away, no matter the circumstances, it was his mother.

“Come in,” he said, attempting to hide his reluctance to invite her into his sanctuary for the evening. The library was shared amongst the family, of course, but, besides his study and his bedchamber, it was one room where he could usually be alone, or if not alone, in silence. Viola was often seated upon the chesterfield in the corner, but she always had a book in hand and let him be. They had a rather extensive library for a London townhome, with floor-to-ceiling shelvings that lined the walls, much like his office but in greater volume, and more throughout the room within recesses, all filled with various books from multiple eras, in many different genres. They had accumulated over the years, and it seemed that no Marquess of Berkley had

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