Miss Darby's Duenna by Sheri Cobb South Read Free Book Online

murmured, moving over to make room on the sofa for the dowager.
    “So you’re the chit Harry plans to marry,” said the old lady in shrill accents. With a contemptuous glance at Olivia’s circle of admirers, he added, “My grandson is a fine young man. Make you an excellent husband!”
    “I’m sure he will, ma’am,” agreed Miss Darby dutifully.
    “So tell me, child, what d’ye think of London?”
    “Oh, I like it of all things!” Olivia said brightly, unwilling to confess before witnesses that Sir Harry’s infrequent appearances made her Season something less than brilliant. “We visited Almack’s last night, and tonight Lord Mannerly has offered to escort us to Covent Garden. Is that not generous of him?” she added, with a smile for the marquess.
    “Generous, indeed,” concurred the dowager with a nod, fixing Mannerly with a purposeful eye. “I daresay I have not set foot in a theater in a quarter of a century. Much has changed since then, I’ll warrant.”
    Lord Mannerly saw the look in that eye, and conceived a dislike for the septuagenarian almost as profound as that which he harbored toward her interfering grandson. He had the greatest aversion to being trapped by any female, be she seventeen or seventy. But as it could hardly further his cause with Miss Darby to deliver a stinging set-down to the grandmother of her fiancé, he merely bared his teeth in a smile noticeably devoid of humor. “I should be honored, Lady Hawthorne, if you would join my party.”
    “The honor will be all mine, I am sure,” replied Sir Harry with unholy glee, having a fair idea of the emotions warring behind the marquess’s urbane façade. “You may call for me here, if you please, at eight o’clock. And do be prompt—I abhor dawdlers.” Bracing himself with his ebony cane, Sir Harry hoisted himself off the sofa and onto his aching feet. “And now, if I am to enjoy such a treat tonight, I must return to my lodgings and rest. Georgina, dear child, you may see me to my carriage.”
    “Yes, Grandmama,” said that young lady, eagerly seizing the opportunity for a moment alone with her brother. She grabbed the old lady’s arm and propelled her out of the parlor at a speed quite unsuited for the dowager’s advanced years. Having reached the black-and-white tiled entry hall, however, she turned on her sibling. “All right, Harry, now will you tell me the reason for this ridiculous charade?”
    “Shhh!” hissed Sir Harry, darting a furtive glance toward the parlor door. “It’s that Mannerly fellow. I don’t like him, Georgie.”
    A tingle of excitement chased down Georgina’s spine. So her instincts regarding Lord Mannerly had not been so far off the mark! “Why not?” she asked, agog with curiosity. “What has he done?”
    “The tale is not fit for a lady’s ears,” replied Sir Harry piously. “Suffice it to say that Mannerly detests me as much as I dislike him, and would not hesitate to serve me an ill turn if he had the chance.”
    The violence of her own reaction to the marquess’s blatant masculinity was enough to convince Georgina that her brother might indeed have reason to be concerned. “That I can readily imagine! But why the disguise?”
    “Because he’s a loose fish, Georgie, and I’ll not have him sniffing around Livvy in that curst encroaching way of his. As a lady of, er, mature years, I shall be able to keep an eye on Livvy without her being the wiser.”
    Miss Hawthorne regarded her brother with a knowing eye. “You forbade Olivia to have anything to do with him, didn’t you, Harry?” It was a statement, not a question.
    “Dashed right, I did!”
    “I thought as much. Really, Harry, how could you be so foolish? Surely you must have known you would drive her straight into his arms!”
    “No, I didn’t!   Indeed, why should I?” Sir Harry demanded, justifiably outraged. “I thought she was a sensible girl who would listen to the advice of her future husband!”
    Georgina,