The Luck of the Devil

The Luck of the Devil by Bárbara Metzger Read Free Book Online

Book: The Luck of the Devil by Bárbara Metzger Read Free Book Online
Authors: Bárbara Metzger
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance
into complete room settings, others just held special objects as curios. Rowanne had model chairs from Mr. Chippendale and inch-wide dishes from Spode that her mother had commissioned when ordering new tableware for Wimberly House. Two room settings sported thumbnail family groupings painted by Lawrence as a favor to her father when he was doing the viscount's portrait, and palm-size brass beds were covered with sheets painstakingly embroidered with the family crest by her old nanny. Last Christmas Gabe had presented her with a silver tea service he'd had made for her, the whole thing, tray and all, no longer than her smallest finger. She had tiny gold filigree chairs from Russia, a carved cradle from Germany, and replicas of marble statues from Italy. There were working clocks, if one was careful about winding them, and wooden bowls of porcelain fruit.
    Rowanne herself contributed tapestry weavings and painted-velvet rugs, little watercolors in locket frames,
papier-mâché flowers—and whatever else she thought to try her hand at. It was taking her most of the winter to string Austrian glass beads into a crystal chandelier.
     
    Miss Grimble arrived finally and, after assessing the house, the kitchens, stables, and attics, decided to stay while she wrote her memoirs. No mention was made of her previous position.
    "I wouldn't take on just any young lady, you know. But yes, I can see where that brother of yours would be a challenge." Miss Grimble did not say that getting Miss Wimberly fired off would appear much more likely, and much better for her own tarnished reputation. The chit had to be nudging twenty-one. Time and past for a wealthy miss to be leg-shackled. They got strange notions after that. She nodded. "Getting a male settled would be a new twist for the book."
    "I would hate to see my family named in a publication, Miss Grimble."
    "Yes, yes, I can see where you would. No matter, I have enough material for several volumes. I can write while you are involved with your hobbies." The forbidding dame had been impressed by the collection. "Shows a serious turn of mind. At least you're not likely to chuck it all and go haring off to the Continent with some ivory-tuner. Now about Lord Wimberly. Your brother is known to be high-minded and dedicated. Dull."
    "But he is the dearest creature in existence. He just does not like to make small talk or listen to gossip."
    "He's a misfit in society, with no bark on it, but he's rich and titled, and there are a lot of widgeons wanting nothing more than a house to manage. We'll find a peagoose who will take him."
    "That's no problem. Women like Gabriel. It is he who has no interest."
    "Not peculiar, is he?"
    "Peculiar?" Rowanne colored, then remembered that book of memoirs. "Of course not, and if you are going to go on like that, I don't think—"
    "You never can tell. There's Lord—"
    "Miss Grimble!"
    The dragon recalled that she really did need this position, if only until the manuscript was completed. "I daresay we can find him a suitable wife in jig time."
    "But he has to love her."
    "That will take longer. My book might be done before then, but we can try. It will mean Almack's every week to look over the new crop of debutantes, and the major crushes where everyone and his uncle comes and brings his sister. A lot of tea parties and shopping expeditions, places where females gather. Are you ready for that, Miss Wimberly?"
    Rowanne was ready to face society and enjoy herself doing it. Captain Delverson was mentioned again in the dispatches, back in the thick of things, but of course that had nothing whatsoever to do with her change of heart.
Chapter Six
    « ^ »
    S ome men were fortunate in combat. They could come through whole battles without ever seeing the enemy. Others considered themselves blessed that they were still alive after the bloodiest confrontations. The battered survivors could look around at their fallen comrades and in dark humor declare, "Things could have been

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