Always the Rival (Never the Bride #7) - Emily E K Murdoch Page 0,30

is fantastic,” Westray said enthusiastically.

Charles sighed heavily. “With Priscilla Seton.”

The smile disappeared from his friend’s face. “Ah. Not as fantastic as I originally thought. Damnation, Orrinshire, you are weeks away from your wedding! The last thing poor Miss Lloyd needs is a rival to her affections. What are you doing to do now?”

Charles’s gaze watched the form of Priscilla Seton. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

Chapter Eight

Priscilla smiled nervously at Hodges as he shut the door behind her. “Good evening, Hodges.”

The servant nodded serenely. “Good evening, Miss Seton, and I may take this opportunity to congratulate you?”

She stared as he took her coat and gloves. It was a cold evening, so cold she had almost stayed at home.

But she could not. Once her mind had been made up, she had to venture into the night, walk across the Orrinspire Park, and come and see him.

Her heart was thumping so loudly she was certain the butler could hear it. “Congratulate me?”

Hodges smoothed a crease in her coat. “Yes, I heard from a Mr. Thomas Tanner that you were of material help to his son, Benjamin, a few days ago. Something about an escaped bull, or that was the story told in the Red Lion last night.”

Priscilla smiled. “I wondered how long it would take for the news to get around the village. Yes, a bull. His Grace and a friend of his, Lord Westray, also assisted.”

Hodges raised an eyebrow. “Well, His Grace never ceases to amaze me. I assume that it is he upon whom you have come to call?”

She hesitated. This was it, the last moment she had before she could escape Orrinspire Park with her dignity intact.

Was this the right decision? It had felt right when she had shouted down the passageway to her mother that she was visiting Charles, and her mother, naïve as she was, had evidently not thought a thing of it.

Ever since that woodland walk, she had been unable to think of anything else. Her mind had been consumed with Charles like never before, but it was tinged with thoughts of another.

Miss Frances Lloyd. This rivalry, as she had called it when they had spoken at the Donal wedding. It had all been for a most excellent cause, and at the time, she had thought herself…well, clever.

She had not seen Miss Lloyd since and had continued her antics, assuming that she had not changed her mind. Even if she did, would Priscilla stop in her pursuit of the one man she knew she…

Priscilla bit her lip as the butler waited. All she had wanted was for Charles to see her differently, to realize that he had a choice between her and Miss Lloyd. How could he, if he did not even know that she was entered in the race and was determined to win?

She swallowed, tasting the indecision in the back of her throat like bile. What was she doing? Would she regret this night?

Her fingers tightened around the book she had brought for the task. The leather felt smooth under her palms, and it was this grounding to reality that helped her speak.

“Yes,” she said far more firmly than she felt. “Charles. Is he here?”

“The master is at home,” the butler said slowly. “But…’tis a little late to call, Miss Seton, if you do not consider me impertinent in saying so.”

Priscilla raised the book like a small shield. “I found this in our library and knew immediately it did not belong there and wanted to bring it back where it belonged.”

The servant was looking a little taken aback. “My goodness, Miss Seton, I had no idea that you were a great reader.”

Priscilla swallowed. This was all going wrong. All she had wanted to do was come in and see Charles, and…well. See if she had the nerve.

“Thank you, in any case, for bringing back an Orrinshire book,” Hodges said, reaching for it.

She pulled it into her chest, protectively. “I want to give it back to Charles. He is the owner of the book, after all.”

There it was again, another raised eyebrow from Hodges. “You do not trust me, Miss Seton?”

Was it possible to feel any more wretched? But she would not get another chance like this, and she was determined. She would see him alone.

“It is not that, Hodges, you know that,” she said quietly. “It is…I feel honor-bound to place it into his hands. For all I know, this is a very important book.”

Hodges smiled. “Prodromus Florae Novae Hollandiae et Insulae Van Diemen, I