The Virgin at Goodrich Hall by Danielle Lisle Read Free Book Online Page B

to descend upon it. The time had now come. Maggie had gone shopping with Lady Belfort, as he’d expected.
    A footman opened the door to the carriage. Victor nodded and descended the step, removing his hat as he stopped at the door to the residence. The knock of his cane was quickly met by a butler.
    “Duke of Rothbury to see Lord Carrieton,” Victor said, handing over his card.
    The startled expression of the butler came and went in a fleeting moment as he stepped aside, allowing Victor to enter.
    Victor was led into the library, a quaint and homey little room. He stood by the fireplace, his hand resting on the polished marble as he waited, his mind a muddle of thoughts and worries. She did not know his identity—Belfort had assured him of it. While he would not normally concern himself with his own worries of a woman disapproving of him owing to his rank, it concerned him now. Maggie was no ordinary woman. Would she resent him because of his wealth and stature? She had hinted at her desire to be normal, able to seek love. He could not offer her normality.
    The doors opened and he looked up to see a startled lord pause at the door before hurrying forward in greeting. It seemed Victor would need to do little to win over her father. What man would not want a duke for a son-in-law? The question that concerned him was, would Lady Margaret want a duke for a husband?
     
    * * * *
     
    As Margaret’s shoes touched the stone that lined the walk outside the impressive home, surprise washed over her.
    “Do you have the correct location? This is not Belfort House.”
    “No, it is not Belfort House, my Lady, but the location Lord Belfort asked that you be delivered to,” the young footman said, with a bow.
    “Oh? Well, thank you.”
    She moved forward as the door to what looked to be an even grander home opened. She was not even sure where she was, but it certainly was not her friend’s new home. No moon shone tonight, and even with the lanterns lit in the street she could not recognise where she stood. The fog rolled thick this eve.
    The butler bowed as she approached. He closed the door behind her and took her coat, then handed it to a footman, who also bowed before he departed.
    “Good evening, Lady Margaret. I hope your journey to us was a pleasant one,” the older man said. “My name is O’Brian and I am the butler here.”
    “Where exactly is ‘here’, O’Brian?” she asked suspiciously, and the man pursed his lips slightly.
    “Forgive me, my Lady, but if you would follow me all can be revealed.”
    Margaret took a deep breath. She was not in the mood for games. She was tired and wanted nothing better than to curl up in bed and cry her lonely tears. She was in no mood to dine with others. Margaret had only accepted Claire’s invitation because she missed her friend and had been assured it would be a quiet evening at Belfort House. This was certainly not Belfort House. While the house was grand, the foyer that she now moved through was more opulent than any other residence she had visited during her life.
    O’Brian led her through a large archway into the most startling library she had ever seen. Books lined the walls on several levels, and paintings and sculptures had been lovingly displayed around the room. It was superb.
    As the soft click behind her sounded, she turned sharply to look at the now closed doors she had walked through moments ago. Gooseflesh suddenly rose on her neck, prickles sending shivers down her spine.
    Slowly, she turned to face the centre of the library again. A shadow of a man she had not noticed before stood at the end of the long room. It was not Lord Belfort. She could tell by the build of the man. While large, he did not carry the height and build the way her friend’s husband did. She focused on the figure, where he stood cloaked in the darkness.
    Only as he stepped forward into the light did the breath in her lungs escape her. It could not be, yet it was. The man she had run from