A Question for Harry by Angeline Fortin Read Free Book Online Page B

asked in confusion.
    “You said that your family would see that there isn’t another you wish to wed,” Ramsay said . “Are you encouraging other gentlemen? Allowing them court you?”
    There was something chilling in his tone, something that hinted at possessiveness that set Fiona’s teeth on edge . “It is not yet your business what I encourage or allow, Donovan Ramsay,” Fiona scolded, beginning as she meant to go on. “But I will say this, I am allowing my brother his wishes in this matter to prove to him that I know my own mind. You are my choice. If you wish to remain so, I suggest that you, too, allow him this time to be as assured as I.”
    “Then you will not elope with me?”
    “No, Lord Ramsay, I am not prepared to so blatantly disregard my family nor will I run away like some shameless hussy,” Fiona told him firmly. “What I am prepared to do is wait them out.”
    Ramsay tensed as if preparing for battle before visibly relaxing . “Then I suppose I have no choice but to wait with you.”
    “You may call on me tomorrow and we will talk more.”
    “And have your supercilious butler deny me entrance as he did tonight?” Ramsay scoffed. “It is an embarrassment to be left standing on the stoop. Meet me in the park instead.”
    “Very well,” she conceded . It was just as well. Even if she were actually at home, she didn’t know if Hobbes would admit him, even begrudgingly. She would have to speak with him. “I will.”
    “Then I will see you in the morning .” Ramsay leaned in, not for the kiss he had tried to claim before but simply brushing his lips against her cheek, his mustache tickling her tender skin. “Dream of me?”
    Fiona swallowed . “Of course.”

Chapter Five

     
    From the diary of Lady Fiona MacKintosh – May 1895
     
    I keep telling myself that I don’t care. I won’t care. I can’t care.
    And I don’t!
    But I cannot help wondering – as a completely impersonal observation, of course – at the change that has come over Har Lord Aylesbury. Whatever else I might have to say about him, Aylesbury was unfailingly polite … in society, at least. More than that, he was always unswervingly good natured and humorous. I rarely saw him that there wasn’t laughter in his eyes and on his lips.
    Tonight there was none of that in his demeanor . Nothing in his eyes but misery. What has changed him so?
    No ! I won’t care. Not again.
    Instead, I shall continue to play Francis’ game . I will keep company with Lord Temple (though I shall do nothing to encourage him beyond friendship as I have no desire to hurt him.)  I know only too well what that feels like.
    But who is she?
     
    The Glenrothes Townhouse
    117 Eaton Square
    Belgravia, London, England
    The next morning
     
    “So then you did keep the letter back from Lord Ramsay?”
    Hobbes looked studiously over Fiona’s head and she sighed . “It hurts my feelings that you would sneak about behind my back, Hobbes. I thought you rather liked me.”
    The butler met her eyes briefly before they drifted back over her shoulder as he handed her her hat. “I did refrain from forwarding your withdrawal from the Ladies’ Open as well, my lady.”
    Fiona arched a brow as she turned to a nearby wall mirror and settled the hat on her head, pinning it securely. “So I should thank you then for muddling about in my affairs?”
    “I never muddle, my lady.”  A muscle twitched in his cheek that might have been a grimace or a smile as he held out her gloves. One never knew with old Hobbes.
    Was he old, she wondered idly as she drew on her gloves? It was hard to tell. The planes of his cheeks were papery but taut but then Hobbes was far too stiff and starchy to allow a wrinkle to show anywhere, even upon his person.
    Still, r egardless of his demeanor, Fiona was inexplicitly fond of the man and wished for nothing more than his good regard in return. “I know you will do as you wish, Hobbes, but if Lord Ramsay does call, I hope you will at