Maggie MacKeever by Lord Fairchild's Daughter Read Free Book Online Page A

coldly, and pushed her away from him. “As I thought I had made clear to you on a previous occasion. Or have you forgotten that instance, my love?”
    Felicity blanched. She remembered the incident all too well, having been forced to temporarily withdraw from Society as a result. The unpleasant reminiscence prompted her to ill-advised speech. “Do not take on so! The affair was of no consequence;
    you must know that Theo has been dancing attendance on me forever. Heaven knows why; I certainly don’t encourage the man!”
    Averil interrupted this impassioned monologue with a harsh laugh, and Felicity froze at the unpleasant sound.
    “Oh, pray do not black my eye again,” she wailed. Averil grasped her wrists firmly in one of his hands. With a careless move of his unencumbered hand, he ripped the crimson gown from neck to hemline.
    Felicity was terrified. Never had she seen the duke in such a fury, and it was with real fear that she shrieked when he threw her to the floor. She could not even spare a thought for her ruined gown.
    Averil was quickly done with her, and Felicity stared at him with furious loathing as he nonchalantly adjusted his clothing. Her temper rapidly unproved as he pulled from his pocket a jeweler’s box and placed it on a table.
    “A present, my love,” he said as she scrambled to her feet. “It reminded me of you.” The brooch was decidedly vulgar, but Felicity was overwhelmed with what she considered its magnificence.
    “Averil!” she gasped, and made as if to throw herself into his arms. He moved away.
    “A farewell gift,” he murmured, as he paused casually at the door. “I have today received word from my grandmother; she desires my immediate return to Ballerfast.”
    “Oh, Averil,” Felicity moaned dramatically, her avaricious mind working quickly, “are we always to be parted too soon? Take me with you! You know I am disconsolate when you are absent.”
    “Good God!” Averil ejaculated, with honest horror. “You cannot suppose that even I would take my fancy-piece to my grandmother’s home!”
    Felicity’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly several times, to Averil’s sardonic delight. He noticed that her eyes protruded slightly, giving the impression of a rather voluptuous fish. “Then, too,” he added, with sudden boredom, “there is another reason. I have no further use for you, you see.”
    “Averil!” she screamed, then quickly changed her tactics and allowed a few tears to slide down her cheeks. “I had not thought you would treat me with such brutality.”
    “You have much to learn about the Quality, my pet,” he retorted, and went quickly through the door. The sound of breaking china, accompanied by fulsome curses, followed him down the stairs.
    * * * *
    Theophilus Tierney emerged cautiously from Felicity’s beruffled dressing chamber, and was greeted by an animated china bowl that crashed against the wall beside him. Theo surveyed his love dubiously; in her torn gown, with her hair in tawdry disarray and her paint ravaged by tears and fury. Felicity looked like a slut from the streets. She attracted him, all the same. Theo had a definite predilection for low vices.
    “It’s no wonder Vere gave you your leave,” he murmured. “You’re not looking your best, my pet.” Felicity screamed with rage, and Theo was obliged to move quickly out of the path of a flying glass paperweight.
    “My dear girl, do compose yourself,” he said, and slapped Felicity with a violence that knocked her back against a table, which promptly collapsed under her weight. She glared at him balefully from the floor. Theo casually adjusted his cuffs, then arranged himself gracefully in a convenient chair.
    “I’ve spent an excessively boring afternoon,” he complained, stifling a yawn. “I would think you might contrive to keep me better entertained. You should be grateful for my patience—just think how it would have gone with you had Vere suspected that I was secreted on the