Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“If you want to accuse me of something, Ashford, just do it.”
“I don’t accuse people without evidence. But trust me, I will find evidence. You will go down for this.” Thomas loosened his hand from Jonathan’s collar. “Get the hell out of my sight. And if I see you with Patricia, I will fucking pummel you into the ground.”
Jonathan’s eyebrows rose at Thomas’s profanity.
“I do believe your mother, the countess, would wash your little blueblood mouth out with soap if she heard what you just said.”
“You leave my mother out of this. You leave Lady Patricia out of this. I wish you had left the viscount and his family out of this, but apparently you were able to sway them.”
“I’m sure I don’t know—”
Thomas glared at his cousin. “Don’t play me for a fool, Jonathan. It will be the last thing you do.”
27
Tricia reread the story of Lady Portia and then tossed the papers back into her valise.
They’d been titillating, to be sure, and even though she did have two suitors, Lord Polk and Mr. Jameson, Tricia could not imagine herself in Lady Portia’s shoes with both of those men.
No.
She wanted only Thomas.
There was no need to have two lovers when you could have the man of your dreams.
Her mother and Katrina had already descended. Tricia had sneaked back into her room to reread the latest episode of Lady Portia’s exploits after dressing.
The story would continue, of course, but Patricia had no more interest in reading it, even if Sarah was able to procure more issues.
Tricia checked her face in the looking glass, pinched her cheeks, smoothed out her hair, and left her bedchamber to descend.
Several ladies sat in the parlor, including her mother and Rose. Katrina was no doubt in a lesson or some other activity with the younger children.
“Tricia, darling,” Lady Clementine said, patting the seat beside her. “Do come join us.”
“Of course, Mummy.” Tricia began walking toward her mother when—
“Good morning, Lady Patricia.”
She turned and looked over her shoulder as Lord Polk entered the parlor.
“Lord Polk,” she said politely with a short curtsy.
Lord Polk walked swiftly toward her. “I was wondering if you might accompany me on a stroll about the grounds.” He looked at Lady Clementine. “If your lovely mother would join us, that is.”
Lady Clementine rose. “I can think of nothing I might like better than a stroll.”
“Perfect,” Lord Polk held out his arm to Tricia.
She took it and left the parlor with Lord Polk, her mother walking behind them.
She felt every eye on her.
Lord Polk was handsome, and he had asked her on a stroll.
She was happy to do it, if only to get her mind off Thomas.
Lady Clementine stayed a few feet behind them so Lord Polk and Tricia could talk.
“It is a beautiful morning,” Tricia said.
“It is,” Polk agreed, “but I fear nothing about this gorgeous landscape is as beautiful as you are.”
Tricia’s cheeks warmed a bit, even though the day was quite brisk. It was nice to be complimented. Even if the compliment wasn’t coming from the man she adored.
“The azaleas are quite splendid this year, don’t you think?” Polk gestured towards the vibrant bushes lining the pathway.
“They are, indeed. The gardeners have outdone themselves.” Tricia had no idea what the gardeners had done. Though she did appreciate the vibrant blooms, and looking at them allowed her to momentarily escape from the conversation.
“Your mother mentioned you have quite a hand in the garden yourself,” Polk continued.
Tricia smiled slightly, more out of amusement than politeness. When did Polk speak to her mother? And why would her mother say Tricia was handy in the garden? Surely, she had raked and hoed vegetables until her fingers were calloused and bleeding during their years of tenancy on the Lybrook estate. But why on earth would Mummy make it sound like she knew an azalea from a dandelion? She wasn’t sure what to say, so she settled on, “I do enjoy the garden, though I cannot claim much credit. My contributions are limited to occasional suggestions and much admiration.”
Polk chuckled. “Humility is a virtue, Lady Patricia. And speaking of virtues, have you read the latest serialized novel in The Strand? It’s quite captivating.”
Tricia couldn’t hold back her chuckle. She’d indeed recently read a serialized story, but it was far from The Strand. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure, my lord.”
“I see,” Polk said. “Perhaps you prefer something a bit more challenging?”
“Perhaps,” Tricia said, trying her best not to burst into a fit of laughter. The Ruby could hardly be called challenging, but Tricia did enjoy a good novel.
As they circled back toward the house, Tricia felt a subtle relief. Lord Polk was perfectly pleasant, but his attempts at engaging her interests had fallen somewhat flat. She was thankful for her mother’s presence, a welcome barrier against any need for deeper engagement.