Once Upon a Tower by Eloisa James Read Free Book Online Page A

that fever, she might have actually enjoyed meeting the duke. Now that she was perfectly well, it was vexing to think she might have charmed her future husband by being silent when that was decidedly not her normal state.
    At that moment the door opened and her father walked in.
    “I apologize for my tardiness,” he stated. “Lady Gilchrist,” he said, allowing a footman to place a linen cloth in his lap, “are you feeling quite well?”
    “I have a headache,” Layla replied. “Jonas, that fiancé you chose for Edie has sent her a rather lewd letter. I think he might be—”
    “Not at all,” Edie cut in. “The Duke of Kinross has written an entirely suitable response to a letter I sent him.”
    Her father narrowed his eyes. “It was inappropriate for you to write His Grace. If you desired information, I would have communicated your request.”
    “Yes, but Jonas, would he have written to you about pricks and bawdy clocks?” Layla asked.
    “ What? ”
    Really, her father was very good at thundering that sort of question. “Kinross was making a point about his nationality,” Edie explained. “He writes that in Scotland the bawdy hand of the dial is always upon the prick of noon.”
    To her surprise, the indignation drained from her father’s face. “He’s quoting Shakespeare,” he said, picking up his fork. “A distasteful sentence spoken by a disreputable character, but Shakespeare, nonetheless.”
    “I don’t understand the meaning,” Edie said.
    “Naturally not. Such idioms are not within the purview of a gently-bred young lady.” He put down his fork. “I had in mind to mention to you, daughter, that you are likely to encounter a more boisterous atmosphere amongst the Scots than you are accustomed to.”
    “So prick is a boisterous word?” That wasn’t precisely the adjective that Edie would have attached to it, but she was aware that she was lacking all sorts of important knowledge when it came to bedding.
    “Don’t repeat that word!” her father barked. “It should never pass a lady’s lips.”
    Layla raised her head. There was a touch of the mischievous about her eyes, the way there used to be in the early days of her marriage. “You’ll be disappointed to hear this, Jonas, but women quite regularly discuss that particular organ. Depending on the size of the organ under discussion, you might call it a dart, or a needle. Then there’s a pin: used only in truly unfortunate circumstances, of course. But one might discuss a lance.” She swept her hair out of her eyes, the better to see whether she was getting a rise out of her husband.
    And she was.
    “This conversation is unforgivably vulgar,” the earl said, his voice grating.
    “Sword, tool, poleax,” Layla added, looking even more cheerful. “Edie is to be a married woman now, Jonas. We can’t treat her like a child.”
    Edie groaned silently. They were spiraling right back to the same emotional morass. Her father should have married a Puritan.
    Luckily, there were signs of life in her fiancé. If she ventured into a spate of jokes about lances, she had the idea that he would laugh. Unfortunately, she might not understand his jokes, especially if he borrowed them from Shakespeare. She didn’t know much literature. She hadn’t had time for it.
    “What play is that quote from?” she asked.
    “ Romeo and Juliet ,” her father said.
    Perhaps she could take a quick look at the play before replying to Kinross. She wasn’t much of a reader, if the truth be told.
    “Let’s change the subject. I feel truly ill. Do you suppose I’ve caught a wasting illness?” Layla asked. “Perhaps just a small one, something that would make me faint at the sight of a crumpet?”
    “You—” The earl caught himself.
    Edie nimbly took up the conversation before her father said something he should regret, even though he likely wouldn’t. “I’m quite looking forward to meeting Kinross again.” She could have sworn she saw stark longing