The Marriage Truce. Ann Cree Elizabeth
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Название: The Marriage Truce
Автор: Ann Cree Elizabeth
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9781472040749
isbn:
He hadn’t quite worked out the excuse to lure Sarah to the study, but had no doubt he’d come up with one. Ladies, particularly when someone was in distress, were likely to forget about propriety in order to render service. But when Sarah left the ballroom alone, he realised an excuse was not needed. His opportunity had been handed to him.
But his nemesis had interfered again. Just as he had a year ago when Cedric had nearly compromised the rather stupid Lady Alethea, the Duke of Wrexton’s daughter. Her frightened screams had brought Huntington to her aid.
Huntington had listened to him in his cool, arrogant manner as Cedric explained why he must marry the chit. And then Huntington had threatened to ruin him if a word of it ever leaked.
Cedric had no doubt that Huntington would do so. Just as he had no doubt Huntington had had him blackballed from Whites’ when old Stanton had sponsored him for membership.
Even now he was filled with a helpless burning fury.
He stared out the window at the lush green lawn spread before him. This was what he had wanted, had been born for, a country estate, fine food and furnishings, the best tailors and bootmakers. If his mother hadn’t been so stupidly proud, he could have been the heir to Baron Ruckston’s riches, mixing with the best society, welcomed into the best circles. Instead, his mother had refused to agree to his uncle’s terms that she was to never see her son again once Cedric became his heir. And so Cedric remained a poor clergyman’s son raised with five whining sisters while he watched an insipid cousin take his rightful place. And Cedric was forced to scheme, gamble, scrape and bow, and steal when necessary, for everything he had.
His mouth curled. He had no intention of allowing Huntington to interfere any more. Nor would Huntington have everything handed to him. It was time to upset Huntington’s plans.
And Sarah Chandler’s. Her rejection of him still rankled. He’d cultivated her acquaintance, flattered and cajoled her and then she dropped him for a bigger prize. Perhaps the prize would not be hers after all.
He smiled. Sometimes his less-than-desirable acquaintances could prove quite useful. And the wedding was the day after tomorrow. There was still time.
Dev returned from London in the early afternoon of the following day. Most of the house party had gone off on a picnic and Henslowe was closeted with his agent, which suited him. He had no desire to speak with anyone, not even Jessica.
Not that he’d had a problem procuring the licence. He yanked off his leather gloves and tossed them on the dressing table. No, the damnable document was safe in his pocket. The document he’d never intended to see his name on again.
He dropped his coat on the bed and paced to the window. The sun shone brightly, the hills rolling away. In the distance he caught a glimpse of Monteville House. His stomach lurched with a nervousness he had not felt for an age.
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