The Duke’s Desire by Margaret Moore Read Free Book Online Page B

Daniel’s sake, and Jocelyn’s, too,” Verity continued as she removed her pelisse. “They are the only relations we have, after all.”
    “And blood is thicker than water,” Nancy said, and sighed as if they had had this conversation many times before as, in fact, they had.
    “Yes. Jocelyn can hear how you speak to them, you know, and you influence her a great deal. Unfortunately, if anything were to happen to me, they would be her guardians, so we must take care to ensure that she does not upset them.”
    “Aye, I know,” Nancy admitted remorsefully, “and I’ll try harder, really I will.”
    Verity smiled. “I know. Now will you please go and see what Jocelyn is up to? She need not come downstairs at once, if she doesn’t want to.”
    “I daresay she won’t,” Nancy said, “but I’ll do my best to persuade her.”
    “Thank you, Nancy.”
    “How long do you think they’ve come for this time?”
    “I saw only a small valise, so perhaps this will be a short sojourn.”
    “I hope to heaven you’re right!” Nancy declared with a brusque nod as she headed for the door. “Or I’ll probably bust a stay trying to keep me thoughts to meself.”
    When she had gone, Verity rotated her neck, already feeling the tension Clive always engendered.
    It seemed she had left one anxiety-inducing scene for another—but at least this one she was familiar with and she knew how to conduct herself.
    Nevertheless, Verity would have preferred to hide upstairs, too, until Clive and Fanny got annoyed and left, but as that would be altogether too rude, she could only linger for a few moments to tidy her hair.
     
    “Oh, shut that mouth of yours and stop whining!” Clive commanded his wife in a harsh whisper. He ran his finger along the marbled mantelpiece, stopping when he touched the heavy silver candlestick. “We’re here and we’re not leaving until I say so.”
    “But, my love—” Fanny began as she hovered near the door.
    Clive’s mouth twisted with anger and disgust. “Are you such an idiot you can’t remember one thing I say? I’m sure there’s more to her visit to that woman than a change of scene.”
    “What else—?”
    “Something,” Clive said darkly. “And I want to know what.”
    Fanny wanted to weep, but Clive hated it when she wept, so she turned away and surreptitiously wiped her tears before they fell.
    As she did, she wished again that Verity’s father had never met her brother, Daniel. Then, when Verity’s wastrel father had died penniless, her kindhearted brother would not have taken it upon himself to look after Verity. He would not have married her and spent all that money on this lovely house, so much finer than the one she shared with Clive.
    Her gaze roved over the walls painted a pale sea green, the fine floral brocade of the sofa and drapes, Daniel’s portrait over the mantel, the silver candlesticks that she knew Clive coveted as if theywere solid gold, and finally the thick, luxurious carpet upon which she stood.
    In her wildest dreams Fanny had never supposed her placid brother would marry Verity Escombe, whose family’s lost wealth came from a source that filled him with repugnance, or that there would be a child who would take away her inheritance.
    She knew Clive had not expected it, either.
    “What are you doing hunched over like that?” Clive demanded querulously. “Stand up straight, can’t you?”
    She did as he commanded.
    “Here she comes. Now for heaven’s sake, smile. And try to find out why she really went to Lady Bodenham’s.”
    “Yes, Clive.”
    Unfortunately for Fanny, Verity had gone to Eloise’s solely for a friendly visit and no other reason. As for any other subject, such as the unexpected arrival of the Duke of Deighton, Jocelyn never spoke of him, and Verity had ten long years of practice when it came to keeping secrets.
     
    A fortnight later, sitting in a leather-covered wing chair, surrounded by books he had never read and pictures he never