Lord Haversham Takes Command by Heidi Ashworth Read Free Book Online Page A

while the Crenshaws exchanged a speaking glance. It was a sudden stroke of inspiration that prompted Harry to adopt his Grandfather Barrington’s conversational cadences, and it would seem from the expressions on their faces that the Crenshaws had most certainly met the old Squire. As no response was forthcoming, Harry cast about for a way to keep the conversation alive. A fruitful idea would be to address his comments to Mira, but that could prove dangerous as well; he knew his longing for one word of love, friendship, or even approval from her would be far too apparent, if not positively naked.
    Turning his back on his beloved, he addressed her mother instead. “Lady Crenshaw, I declare, I heard a droll joke the other day. A
bon mot tres amusant
, if I do say so myself.” He followed this up with an obnoxious laugh in spite of the way the thundering of his heart impinged on his capacity to fill his lungs for he suddenly had the most lively sense of danger. The thought that his presence alone might put Mira and her parents in peril caused the muscles in his stomach to clench, and he swept a gaze about the room before pausing to look again on Lady Crenshaw’s curiosity-filled face.
    “Har … Bertie, pray tell,” she said with an indulgent smile, “what is this
tres bon mot
?”
    He realized with sudden horror that few of the jokes to which he had been exposed over the years were appropriate for the gentler sex. If he didn’t come up with something foolish and frivolous on the spot, his behavior would seem very suspicious indeed. Anxious to ensure Mira’s safety from unseen forces, he could not resist turning to face her. The expression in her eyes made him just as anxious to hide from her perceptive gaze; hastily dropping his own, he stared fixedly at the fan she held in her hand upon which inspiration lighted.
    “Why does the fan not like the lute?” he asked, unable to hold back a genuine smile of relief.
    “I couldn’t say,” the Duke drawled in blatant imitation of Harry. He did not smile.
    “Because it’s not a fan of instruments!” Harry exclaimed, tacking on another round of obnoxious laughter in an attempt to distract all and sundry from dwelling overly long on the utter absurdity of his attempt at humor. George’s predictable negative reaction notwithstanding, Harry was humbled and more than a little pleased at the kindness of the Crenshaw family, all of whom managed a chuckle and smile of encouragement. From her parents he would have expected nothing less, but for Mira to favor him with something as benevolent as a smile at an utterly inane joke uttered by an equally inane man was a gift indeed. Perhaps there was hope for ‘Bertie’ after all.
    With a cough to conceal his crow of delight, Harry turned away from the Crenshaws and came face-to-face with Higgins whose severe expression and rigid stance implied the reality of the peril Harry had sensed earlier.
    “That was a right funny ditty,” Higgins said with a barely perceptible jerk of his head towards the entrance.
    “I’m to be damned by faint praise, am I?” Harry murmured with a cock of his brow and another visual sweep of the room that revealed nothing untoward.
    “You’re sure to be some kind of damned if we don’t scarper out of here,” Higgins said under his breath.
    “Right!” Harry said, clapping his arm about Higgins shoulders and pivoting the two of them about to address the Crenshaws. “Your Grace, Sir Anthony, Lady Crenshaw, Miss Crenshaw,” he said with a nod of his head for each. “Sadly, I must bid you
adieu
! It seems, yes it
seems
, I am meant to be elsewhere!” he twittered. “Until London,” he added with a last veiled glimpse of Mira from the corner of his eye.
    “Nitwit,” George muttered as he placed his well-shod foot directly in the path of the now-hastening Harry who was sent sprawling to the floor just as a loud crack split the air and general pandemonium ensued. Harry recovered quickly and rolled