A Duke in Time (The Widow Rules #1) - Janna MacGregor Page 0,8
Miss Howell sidled next to Katherine.
“My full name is Blythe Elizabeth Howell. My brother calls me Bliss, but my friends call me Beth,” she said gently. “I’d be honored if you’d call me Beth.”
Kat smiled. “Of course, with one caveat. Call me Kat. Did you bring a lady’s maid? She’s welcome too.”
Beth smiled, but sadness reflected deeply in her ocean-blue eyes. “No. I’m alone.” She swallowed, but the unease was written on her face. “I’ve never been in this situation before.”
“I doubt if any of us have ever been in this situation before.” Katherine linked her arm through Beth’s. “Let’s go home. I’ll make a pot of tea, and we’ll see if we can convince Willa to bake some lovely iced biscuits for us.”
Chapter Three
After maneuvering through the London traffic, the carriage finally pulled up to the solicitor’s office, and Christian waited for his new footman, John Iverson, to open the door. Iverson had served under him in an elite squad of the Ninety-Fifth Regiment stationed in France and had no home to return to, so Christian had offered him a position.
When Iverson saluted as he stepped down from the carriage, Christian smiled. “There’s no need for that.”
“I forget, Captain … I mean, Your Grace.” The young man’s cheeks flushed slightly.
“We’re all getting used to a new routine.” He placed his tall beaver hat on his head. “I’m not certain how long I’ll be.” Without waiting for an answer, Christian crossed the street, mindful of the traffic.
As Christian was about to enter Mr. Hanes’s office, a grubby hand holding a cup appeared out of nowhere.
“Eh, sir?” A beggar rattled the cup with a coin inside under Christian’s nose. “Have an extra coin for a hungry man?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Christian glimpsed Iverson coming toward him, ready to intervene.
“It’s all right.” He turned his attention to the grubby young man and reached into his waistcoat pocket. “Let me see what I have.”
“Captain? Is it you?” the beggar asked softly.
The man before him was dressed in rags and smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in a month. Yet something was familiar about him as Christian stared into his blue eyes. “Reed?” he asked in astonishment. “Phillip Reed?”
“In the flesh, sir,” The beggar’s gleeful smile slowly melted. Reed bent his head and stared at his cup. “If I’d known it was you, I’d not have made a nuisance of myself.”
“You are not a nuisance.” Christian pulled a guinea from his pocket and pressed it into the man’s hand. The coin was a paltry offering in comparison to Reed’s accomplishments as a scout exploring the countryside and watching the enemies’ movements during the war.
“Your Grace,” a voice trilled from a few feet away.
Christian glanced at the woman waving a yellow silk handkerchief. Her lady’s maid followed. Christian silently sighed as Lady Everton approached. Desperate to have Christian attend a ball she was hosting next week, Lady Everton had sent two invitations to his house since he’d arrived. Christian had politely sent his regrets, but the woman wouldn’t take no for an answer.
He bowed slightly. “Good afternoon, my lady.”
Lady Everton sailed to his side then curtseyed. “Your Grace, how lucky that I find myself in your delightful company.” She glanced toward Reed and did a double take. Her repulsion was evident with her upturned lip. With a backward step, she swept her hand in his direction. “Shoo you,” she admonished.
“Lady Everton, this is Mr. Phillip Reed,” Christian said curtly. “He served under my command and deserves your utmost respect.”
Her mouth opened, and she blinked rapidly in confusion. “I didn’t realize. I thought he was a street beggar.”
“An apology will suffice,” Christian drawled.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace.”
“Not me. Him.” Christian wanted to roll his eyes. Instead, he nodded in Reed’s direction. “And a ‘thank you for your service’ might be appropriate.”
She swallowed and glanced between the two men. “Of course. How rude of me. I apologize and thank you.” She stepped closer to Christian and lowered her voice. “About my ball next week, I wonder if you’d reconsider?”
“I’m afraid not.” Christian kept his face expressionless. “I’m already engaged.” He had no idea how he’d occupy his time that night. But as sure as the sun rises in the east, he wouldn’t attend any event at her house in the foreseeable future. “Now, if you’ll excuse us?”
“Of course,” she said. “Until the next time, Your Grace.” She ignored Reed and dropped another curtsey and held out her gloved hand.