Season Of Secrets: Not Just a Seduction. Carole Mortimer

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      That displeasure glinted in Lord Hawthorne’s narrowed grey eyes and showed in his harshly patrician face, as he heard the rebuke in his grandmother’s quiet tone. Nor was she wrong about his current displeasure being caused by her unexpected arrival; he had neither the time nor the patience for the twittering of Lady Cicely this afternoon. Or any afternoon, come to that! ‘I am only surprised you are visiting me now, Grandmother, when I know you are fully aware this is the time of day that I retire to the nursery in order to spend half an hour with Amanda.’

      His grandmother arched silver brows beneath her pale-green bonnet as the two faced each across the blue salon of Adam’s Mayfair home. ‘And may I not also wish to visit with my great-granddaughter?’

      ‘Well, yes, of course you may.’ Adam belatedly strode across the room to bestow a kiss upon one of his grandmother’s powdered cheeks. ‘It is only that I would have appreciated prior notice of your visit.’

      ‘Why?’

      He scowled darkly. ‘My time is at a premium, Grandmother, nor do I care to have my routine interrupted.’

      ‘And I have just stated that I have no wish to interrupt anything,’ she reminded him quietly.

      ‘Nevertheless, you are—’ Adam broke off his impatient outburst, aware that his grandmother’s unexpected arrival had already made him four minutes late arriving at the nursery. ‘Well, you are here now, so by all means accompany me, if you wish to.’ He nodded abruptly as he wrenched open the salon door—much to Barnes’s surprise, as the butler stood attentively on the other side of that door—for his grandmother to precede him from the room.

      ‘You really are the most impatient of men, Adam.’ Lady Cicely swept past him into the grand hallway, indicating with a nod that her paid companion should wait there for her return. ‘I do not believe even your grandfather and father were ever as irritable as you.’

      Adam placed a gentlemanly hand beneath his grandmother’s elbow as he escorted her up the wide staircase, in the full knowledge that Lady Cicely’s overly fussy nature—to put it kindly!—had irked his grandfather and father as much, if not more, as it now did him. Nevertheless, his grandfather and father were no longer with them, leaving Lady Cicely alone in the world but for himself and Amanda, and so it fell to Adam, as the patriarch of the family, to at least attempt kindness towards his elderly relative. ‘I apologise if my abruptness of manner has offended you,’ he said.

      His grandmother released her elbow from his grasp to instead tuck her hand more cosily into the crook of his arm. ‘Perhaps as recompense you might consider dining with me this evening…?’

      Adam stiffened as he easily recognised Lady Cicely’s less-than-subtle attempt at coercion; he hesitated to call it actual blackmail, although he could not help but be aware of his grandmother’s recent attempts to introduce him to suitably marriageable ladies—suitable according to Lady Cicely, that was. Adam was having none of it. The ladies. Or the marriage. ‘I have to attend a vote in the House tonight, Grandmother.’ After which he fully intended to retire to his club for the rest of the evening, where he hoped to enjoy a few quiet games of cards and several glasses of fine brandy.

      ‘Then perhaps tomorrow evening?’ Lady Cicely pressed. ‘It is so long since the two of us spent any time together…’

      Deliberately so, on Adam’s part, since he had realised what his grandmother was about. He had absolutely no interest in marrying again and his life really was now such that he had little time for anything other than his responsibilities to the House of Lords and his many estates. The dinners and balls, and all the other nonsense of the Season, held no interest for him whatsoever.

      ‘We are together now, Grandmother,’ he pointed out practically.

      ‘But not in any way that—never mind.’ Lady Cicely sighed her impatience. ‘It is obvious to me that you have become even more intransigent than you ever were!’

      Adam’s mouth tightened at the criticism. Well-deserved criticism. But his grandmother knew the reason for his intransigence as well as he did; having been married for over two years, and so been dragged along as his adulterous wife’s escort to every ball, dinner, and other society function during the Season, and to summer house parties when it was not, Adam now chose, as a widower these past four years, not to attend any of them. There was no reason for him to do so. Most, if not all, of society bored him, so why would he ever choose to voluntarily put himself through those days and evenings of irritation and boredom?

      Even so, he instantly felt a guilty need to make amends for the tears he now saw glistening in his grandmother’s faded grey eyes. ‘I may be able to spare an hour or two to join you for dinner tomorrow evening—’

      ‘Oh, that is wonderful, Adam!’ His grandmother’s tears disappeared as if they had never been as she now beamed up at him. ‘I shall make sure to serve all of your favourite dishes.’

      ‘I said an hour or two, Grandmother,’ Adam repeated sternly.

      ‘Yes, yes,’ she acknowledged distractedly, obviously already mentally planning her menu for tomorrow evening. And her guest list. Some of which would no doubt be several of those eligible females Adam wished to avoid! ‘How is the new girl working out?’

      ‘New girl?’ Adam’s mind had gone a complete blank at this sudden change of subject, not altogether sure he understood the meaning of his grandmother’s question; surely Lady Cicely could not be referring to the woman he had briefly taken an interest in the previous month, before deciding that she bored him in bed as well as out of it?

      ‘Amanda’s nursemaid.’ Lady Cicely clarified.

      Adam’s brow cleared at this explanation. ‘Mrs Leighton is not a girl, Grandmother. Nor is she Amanda’s nursemaid, but her governess.’

      ‘Is Amanda not a little young as yet for a governess? Especially when you know as well as I that society does not appreciate a bluestocking—’

      ‘I will not have Amanda growing up to be an ignoramus, with nothing in her head other than balls and parties and the latest fashions.’ Like her mother before her, Adam could have stated, but chose not to do so; the less thought he gave to Fanny, and her adulterous ways, the better as far as he was concerned!

      ‘—and you never did explain fully why it was that you felt the need to dispense with Dorkins’s services after all these years?’

      Lady Cicely was slightly out of breath as they ascended the stairs to the third floor of the house where the nursery was situated.

      Nor did Adam intend explaining himself now. Having the nursemaid of his six-year-old daughter make it obvious to him that she was available to share his bed, if he so wished, had not only been unpleasant but beyond acceptable. Especially as he had never, by word or deed, ever expressed a carnal interest in the pretty but overly plump Clara Dorkins.

      Now, if it had been Elena Leighton, Amanda’s new governess, then he might not have found the notion of sharing her bed for a night or two quite so unpalatable—

      And where, pray, had that particular thought come from?

      Since the death of his wife Adam had kept the satisfying of his carnal desires to a minimum, considering them a weakness he could ill afford. And, whenever those desires did become too demanding, even for his now legendary self-control, he only ever indulged with those ladies of the demi-monde whose company СКАЧАТЬ