Mad About the Duke by Elizabeth Boyle Read Free Book Online Page B

money. Why, it is a most sensible plan.”
    Miranda’s brows rose.
    He glanced over at Jack, waiting for his brother to second his plan. But he found no help from that quarter.
    â€œYes, Your Grace, women love sensible,” Miranda said.
    The ironic note to her words sent a twinge of doubtthrough James’s resolve. Whatever was Miranda saying? Of course women loved sensible.
    Didn’t they?
    â€œThey clamor for it, Parkerton,” Jack told him, as if tossing him a line to pull him from a deadly mire. “This sensible plan of yours will undoubtedly put you at the top of her list.”
    â€œI don’t want to be on her list,” he told them. He didn’t.
    But he should, at the very least, be there.
    Couldn’t they see that? “I daresay she’ll be overcome with relief,” he said with some confidence, until, that is, he caught his sister-in-law stealing a glance at her husband and the disbelief on Jack’s face.
    Doubting Thomases, both of them. What the devil did Jack know of women?
    Mad Jack Tremont? A hell of a lot more than you do.
    And yet when neither of them leapt in with a quick agreement, he continued, because he had the sense that he was floundering again. “I suspect she will be quite grateful. She’ll see me for the man I am.”
    It didn’t do his resolve much good when Jack and Miranda exchanged a pair of wary glances.
    â€œDo you want her to see you that way?” Jack asked.
    â€œWhat is wrong with the way I am? With who I am? I haven’t heard any complaints before,” he declared, trying to take a more ducal stance but finding it nigh on impossible to do it in Jack’s ill-cut coat.
    â€œWho would dare?” Miranda pointed out.
    James clenched his teeth together. Oh, yes. Well, there was that. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anyone, save Miranda and, on occasion, his daughter Arabella, who had ever voiced their dismay with his plans or intentions.
    A realization that in itself sent a frisson of doubt down his spine.
    But it didn’t stop him from challenging her assumption.
    After all, he was the Duke of Parkerton.
    â€œSo, Lady John,” he said, resorting to the same formal acknowledgement, “since you seem to be full of opinions, as well as being a member of the fairer sex, I ask yours. What do you think of my plan?”
    She rose from the table, smoothing her skirt. Then she glanced up and met his gaze with her own steely one. “My opinion, Your Grace? You seek my opinion.”
    It should be noted that at this point, Jack fled from the table.
    â€œYes, madame,” James said with a ducal wave of his hand. “I would like to hear your opinion.”
    Miranda smiled. “I think the Earl of Clifton should have hit you harder.”
    Â 
    â€œIt is all arranged,” Lucy Sterling Grey, now the Countess of Clifton, said, arriving in the salon. “Thomas-William will stay on. He’ll not let Lord Lewis set one foot in this house.”
    Elinor sighed with relief, for Lucy’s formidable servant could likely hold off a French invasion with one of his dark glances. That, plus Thomas-Williams’s rather shady reputation, would serve as a good deterrent in keeping her stepfather at bay.
    For the time being.
    After accepting a cup of tea, Lucy settled down onto the settee. The newly married countess had arrived to fetch her belongings just as Mr. St. Maur was leaving. “Oh, goodness, Elinor, I almost forgot. Whatever was he doing here?”
    â€œHe?” Elinor asked. “Oh, you mean Mr. St. Maur.”
    â€œOh, yes, Lucy, you’ve been a terrible influence,” Minerva said, jumping into the conversation. “Elinor intends to take him as her lover.”
    At this, poor Elinor nearly sprayed a mouthful of tea all over the sitting room. “Gracious heavens, Minerva! I intend to do no such thing!”
    â€œIt does explain that gown,” Lucy said, winking at