Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
‘I do not.’ I nod my respect to my brother. ‘But some whispers are very loud, so I would encourage you to be very careful, Frank.’
His smile is as fond as I know him to be of me. ‘Must I return that sentiment?’
Keeping my face without reaction is a tricky endeavour, so I smile tightly and remove myself from my brother’s company before he can detect anything untoward. Which, of course, there isn’t. I can only thank the heavens that my brief encounters with the Duke have gone unnoticed.
I nibble my lip thoughtfully. ‘Miss Melrose,’ Mr Fitzgerald says as I pass, and I smile my hello. It is quick to collapse upon arrival to the next room, where Frederick is hovering alone in a corner with not one person nearby that I might pull in to relieve me of the strain of making a conversation. ‘My lord,’ I say.
‘Miss Melrose. I have been eager for your company all evening.’
‘I must apologise for my absence. I came over a bit queasy, if you must know.’ It is not an outright lie, so I shall not feel too guilt-ridden. I feel extremely queasy in this moment, truth be told, as I know not how long I can sustain this circus. My feet are twitching in my boots, desperate to carry me far away.
‘You do,’ Frederick says, concern awash on his face, ‘look a trifle pale. Perhaps, with the permission of your father, naturally, I should escort you home.’
‘Perhaps,’ I murmur despondently, wondering if at all Frederick’s suggestion is sensible. At least here I am somewhat distracted from the circling of my annoying thoughts, which I’m certain will escalate into a full spin upon finding myself alone searching for sleep.
Thoughts that not only revolve around the circumstances of the Duke’s arrival in London, but thoughts that revolve around the way he looked at me. The words he said. The feelings overcoming me. His lips nearly upon mine and how secretly I’m devastated that he’s denied me a kiss more than once.
God, what is this horrible feeling in my chest?
Father, naturally, is pleased to release me into the wild night-time with Frederick and has Frank chaperone us. ‘Take Clara with you as well. Where has she been all evening, by the way?’
‘Here, Papa!’ she says, appearing from nowhere. ‘I was with Mama.’
She lies, and yet I cannot call her out. But I will be giving her a stern talking-to. She needs to stop this silly infatuation with the stable boy.
Hypocrite!
The walk home is silent, and I immediately go to my bedroom and steal a peek out of my window across Belmore Square. It’s past midnight, and the candles still glow in the window, the silhouette of someone casting shadows. I watch intently, wondering how we went from pleasant conversation to hostility.
‘No,’ I whisper when I see Lady Dare crossing the square, my heart slowing, I admit. She knocks, and when he answers, my heart stops altogether.
I run to the bowl on my dresser and vomit violently before I weakly collapse into bed. My final thought before I drift off to sleep is…
Bugger it all, am I lovesick?
Chapter 9
The next morning, Clara bursts in and plonks herself on the edge of my bed. ‘Did you hear?’ she asks.
‘I have just this moment opened my eyes,’ I say, rolling over and punching my pillow to make it suitably plump. ‘Hear what and from whom?’
‘Mr––’ Her nose wrinkles, and quick on the heels of that, a grimace. ‘Whatever is that awful stench?’
‘Oh.’ The stench finds my waking sense of smell and wakes it fully. ‘That would be my vomit.’ I remove myself from the bed and go to the bowl, holding my breath as I place it outside my room. ‘Dalton!’ I call. ‘Could I trouble you for a moment?’ He appears, his usually friendly face twisting considerably when he sees what I am troubling him for. I can only smile my apologies as I pass him the bowl. ‘Thanking you kindly.’ I shut my door and find some perfume, flicking some drops into the air and opening a window. Good heavens, it is putrid. I should have dealt with it yesterday eve, but I was as weak as a kitten! In fact, I cannot say with any confidence that I feel much better. ‘You had better tell Dalton,’ I say to Clara over my shoulder, breathing in the fresh air, ‘to return the bowl without delay.’ I expect this is my penance for blatantly lying about my whereabouts yesterday evening. I feel plain dreadful, my hands braced against the window ledge the only thing holding me up.
‘Should I get Mama?’
‘That is not necessary.’ I unbend my body when I am confident that I am in control of my heaves and go to face Clara to find out what the devil I am supposed to have heard, but my intentions are foiled when my attention is stolen by a figure across the square. A figure I have come unsuitably close to, and, disgracefully, have touched. I ignore how handsome he looks this morning. Handsome and together. Well dressed, as if he has some important business to attend to. I expect he is suitably satisfied after Lady Dare called upon him. He sent me away and invited her in. It would not be such an insult if I did not loathe the woman that he was rather quick to replace me with.