The Duke's Last Hunt by Rosanne E. Lortz Read Free Book Online Page A

tongue from sticking to the roof of her mouth. She glanced sideways and saw her mother sitting tight-lipped on the other side of Mr. Blount. No, it was too much to hope for rescue from that quarter.
    “Miss Malcolm,” said a cheerful voice on her right. It was Lord Henry again. She prayed that he was not about to ask her how she liked the fish.
    “I must confess that you have just saved me from a very awkward circumstance. I was certain that over the course of this dinner Adele would point out to our esteemed company just how strange the cut of my coat is, but no, she has fixated instead on your dress and so I, for the moment, am safe.”
    “Why, Henry! It is strange!” said Lady Adele, a new monstrosity dangling in front of her like a worm on a hook. “What on earth are you wearing?”
    “A dinner jacket, my dear,” said Lord Henry. “And I defy you to guess how long ago it was made!”
    “Last season?” asked Lady Adele, setting down her spoonful of pineapple cream.
    “Wrong!” said Lord Henry. “I’ll give you one more guess.”
    “Two seasons ago?”
    “Wrong again! A pity we did not set a wager before I let you guess.”
    “Then when?” demanded Adele. “How old is it? It’s positively ghastly!”
    Mr. Curtis cleared his throat from across the table. “It’s clearly at least three seasons old, Adele. Note the width of the lapels and the garish blue of the fabric. In fact, I doubt anything like that’s been seen since Bonaparte crowned himself Emperor.”
    “Alas,” said Lord Henry, with mock solemnity. “Would you not agree that the cut is excellent?”
    “Oh, Henry!” said Adele as the whole table broke into laughter. “You’d better send up to London for your real clothes if you’re planning to stay the week, for I think the seams of this one are about to explode.”
    They all laughed again, and talk turned once more to the amusements planned for next week. Eliza looked at her neighbor in his tight-fitting, unfashionable jacket, and felt, for just an instant, her tongue-tied shyness lose its grip.
    “Thank you,” she said softly.
    “For what?” Lord Henry asked. “For the fish?” His eyes twinkled at her, and in that instant she knew that he knew how much she detested turbot. She laid her fork down on the edge of her plate—there was no point anymore in pretending to eat it.
    “Yes,” she said, “for the fish.”

5
    H enry watched the ladies vacate the dining room with a distinct sense of concern. He hoped Miss Malcolm’s spirits were fortified enough for Adele’s intrusive questions. He also hoped his mother took things in hand and directed the conversation a little better than she had at dinner.
    A quick look around the room reminded him that his spirits might need fortifying as well. He rose from his chair and walked over to the sideboard as soon as Hayward had decanted the port.
    “Have you heard about this new invention involving locomotion?” Robert said, turning to Rufus.
    Stephen abandoned his chair too and came to fill his glass. “A bit of a one-act show, your half-brother,” he said quietly to Henry.
    “Always,” replied Henry. “Mark my words—he’s speculating on this locomotive business and needs Rufus to back him.”
    “ You could back him.”
    “Hush now.” Henry looked around and saw Walter Turold eyeing them. “That’s not exactly something I’d like to advertise.” Henry turned his back on the table to curtail any eavesdropping. “And besides—how often has Robert been right about any of his gambles? He’s deeper and deeper in dun territory every year—I expect Rufus holds the deeds to all his properties by now.”
    Stephen glanced back at the table and saw Sir Arthur listening with rapt attention to Robert’s scheme.
    “Perhaps he’ll find a backer outside the family?”
    Henry followed Stephen’s eyes. “Sir Arthur? Come now, Stephen, do you really think the Malcolms have money to throw about?” He nearly alluded to Miss