The Inheritance by Joan Johnston Read Free Book Online Page A

Priss, when the problem was solved for her.
    Daisy watched Colin’s blue eyes widen and noticed the stricken look on his face as Priss’s seventeen-year-old stepdaughter entered the room.
    “I heard a male voice,” the girl said. “Oh,” she said when she noticed Colin.
    Colin stiffened as she approached him and looked up into his face—he was a good head taller than she—with open curiosity.
    “Roanna,” Priss admonished. “Where are your manners?”
    The girl flushed and lowered her lashes demurely. “I’m sorry, Priss.”
    The two young people stood there tongue-tied, unable to move or to speak.
    Daisy could see why Colin was bewitched. Lady Roanna Warenne was an English pocket Venus. She had blond curls that framed her face and wide-set blue eyes with long, feathery lashes and a complexion of peaches and cream. She was tiny, but her body curved in all the right places.
    She was dressed in a princess sheath that was figure-fitting to below the hips. A row of dark blue buttons began at her throat and led the eye down below her waist. The bodice and skirt were powder blue, while the sleeves and overlay of the skirt were done in a contrasting fabric of dotted blue that matched the buttons. Fine white lace ringed her throat and her wrists.
    However, it was Roanna’s open admiration ofColin, as much as her looks, that held the young man spellbound.
    Priss appeared undecided whether to introduce Roanna or send her away. Daisy took matters into her own hands. “Lady Roanna Warenne, this is Mr. Colin Calloway, from America. Colin is His Grace’s son.”
    Colin’s heels snapped together so quickly they made an audible sound. His bow, only his third so far as Daisy was aware, was as polished as though he had been bowing to ladies for a lifetime.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Roanna.”
    Roanna’s blush turned her cheeks rosy. Her eyelashes fluttered up once for a quick, impish look at Colin before they lowered once more.
    Colin was smitten, Daisy saw. And realized suddenly how she was going to manage her private conversation with Priss. “Why don’t you show Mr. Calloway around the gardens, Roanna,” she suggested.
    Roanna turned to her stepmother for confirmation that a stroll with the young man would be acceptable.
    “Take your maid with you and a shawl,” Priss said. The countess called a footman to find Priss’s maid and to inform the maid to bring the girl’s shawl. Luckily, this was accomplished quickly, or the two young people might have burned up from the series of hot flushes that came and went on their cheeks as they tried not to stare at each other.
    When Colin and Roanna were gone, Priss settled herself on a winged chair before the fire, which burned even in the summer, and gestured Daisy to the chair opposite her. “I’m not so sure that was a wise thing to do, sending them off together,” Prisssaid. “They’re too attracted to each other for my peace of mind. Although, I must say, it isn’t like Roanna to be attracted to a young man her own age. And in such disreputable attire! Did I hear you say Colin is His Grace’s son?”
    “I suspect Mr. Colin Calloway is more mature than an Englishman his age would be,” Daisy said. “And yes, he’s Nicholas’s son, though not legitimate, apparently.”
    Priss raised a brow. “Does he know how to behave as a gentleman?”
    “If he doesn’t, I’m sure Roanna will correct him,” Daisy said with a smile.
    “I suppose you’re right,” Priss conceded. “Now, I’d like to know what sent you haring over here like this. Obviously, the new duke has arrived. What is he like?”
    “He’s impossible!”
    Priss raised a brow. “Oh?”
    Daisy found it hard to sit, as agitated as she felt. She rose and began pacing in front of the fire. “He plans to sell Severn Manor! None of the land is entailed, and he wants to dispose of everything as quickly as he can and return to America.”
    “Good heavens! What are you going to