Eliza Lloyd by One Last Night Read Free Book Online Page A

hung over her head. Waiting for it to
fall was painful.
    When the day came, she felt nothing but relief.

Chapter Five
     
    John watched her from the second floor of the house, from an
empty bedroom that overlooked the greenhouses where he had asked to meet Lucy.
    She had been troubled since he had sent the original note.
He saw it in the way her eyes looked down and away as if she were ashamed. He
sensed it in the manner in which she sat as if she had a hundred thoughts
burdening her.
    And it was only his stupid, selfish note.
    All he had done was to reveal his true nature and his
uneducated upbringing.
    No true gentleman would have approached her with such a
confession, not when she hadn’t given any hint that she might wish to pursue a
liaison with him. Wasn’t this a cardinal rule? Wasn’t this proof that his blood
was tainted with his past and whatever birthright had been passed to him by
complete strangers?
    When he saw her walk through the gardens and cut across the
trimmed grass, he knew a moment of relief. He needed only to confirm that she
wished to see him.
    Did she suspect? Had she concocted a reasonable explanation
for all that had transpired or even guessed as to his identity?
    Or did she even notice him when she entered the duke’s room
to check on her son? He had spoken to her nearly every day for over eight
years. Could she not see past her servant to the man beneath?
    Lucy had entered the greenhouse and stayed several long
minutes, expecting him, but he had a larger plan.
    He might not be a Duke or a wealthy cit but he had fashioned
himself into a man worthy of respect in spite of his harsh and humiliating
beginnings. That is all he would present to her tonight.
    It did not hurt that he also knew how to please a woman in
oh so many ways. If there was a place he felt confident, it was in bed with a
woman. Did that make up for his lack of title? Did it mean anything to a woman
with everything?
    For Lucy, and for him, he would give them one last night
together before his world crumbled with her rejection.
    During the early evening, the duchess insisted on seeing her
son before his bedtime. John stood in the room, listening to the conversation
as Vincent had to recount his day.
    “Cook says it is the largest fish she’s ever seen.”
    “And you caught it all by yourself?”
    “Mostly by myself.”
    “And how did you do with the accounting ledgers?”
    “Too many numbers. Did you know we own a farm in Scotland?”
    “ You do and yes I did.”
    “Why haven’t we gone? I would bet they have even bigger fish
there.” He leaned toward his mother and put his arm around her shoulder,
attempting to whisper. “Mr. Allen says I have to go to church tomorrow.
Mightn’t I go fishing with Mr. Darrow instead?”
    “Not tomorrow and no fussing or not the day after either.
Now kiss me good night, Vincent, and let Mr. Allen get you ready for bed.”
    “Do I have to bathe?”
    “Yes.” She tapped his nose. “Sweet dreams.”
    He bowed to her. “Good night, Mama.”
    She smiled and brushed her fingertips over his cheek.
    John assisted young Vincent from his formal wear, ensured
that the duke’s ears were clean and wrestled him into his nightshirt. His
responsibilities to a seven-year-old duke were pleasantly different than those
to a grown man. Mostly, John was required to answer questions that seemed to
flow from Vincent’s head and into his mouth faster than John could compile an
answer. Tonight was no different. As soon as his head hit the pillow though, Vincent
was asleep and John proceed to hang the clothes, arrange for tomorrow’s
attendance at church and make sure his charge was presentable and comfortable
at all times.
    He heard Lucy in the next room talking to her lady’s maid.
When she was home and alone, the duchess slept promptly at nine thirty. There
would be plenty of time to wash and shave and silently make his way to her room
once the house was quiet and the night completely dark.
    He would