Lady Vivian Defies a Duke - By Samantha Grace Page 0,10
Lord Ellis might say his piece and forget all about their encounter at the creek. She could still free Patrice to marry the man she loved without dooming herself to live in the convent. This was incentive enough to don the serviceable dress and pretend she knew the first thing about milking cows.
She smoothed her hands over the rough fustian gown, readjusted the white cap covering her loosely bound hair, and then turned away from her reflection. “Wish me luck at fooling the earl.”
“Oh, my lady. Can’t I wish for something more likely to come true?”
She tossed a wry smile over her shoulder. “Again, you are no comfort, dear Winnie.”
“My apologies, my lady.”
Vivi eased the door open, determined the corridor was clear, and sped toward the servants’ stairwell. A lamp at the foot of the stairs cast elongated shadows on the walls as she made her way to the ground floor. She retrieved a spare lantern hanging from a peg and lit it before opening the back door.
Outside, the cool morning air held the promise of autumn with the smell of freshly cut hay hanging on the breeze. She both loved and dreaded the season, knowing cold weather chased on its heels. Yet, on the other side of winter, there was always a new beginning. Vivi tried to keep this foremost in her mind. There was still a chance she could get out of this mess.
Worst case, Vivi wasn’t above groveling for mercy.
***
The chamber was dark when Luke woke. An unfamiliar creak as someone passed outside the door reminded him of where he was. Brighthurst. The home of his would-be betrothed. A surge of alertness swept through him, and he tossed the counterpane aside to sit on the side of the bed.
Lady Vivian wasn’t making his task easy, and not because she lived up to her brother’s definition of the perfect lady. She was a scandal waiting to happen. Most gentlemen would find it within their rights to sever the betrothal after discovering her half-nude in the creek. Luke wasn’t like most gentlemen, however.
Lady Vivian’s unorthodox pursuits provided no reason to destroy her future, and he wouldn’t consider using his discovery against her. She must make an appeal to her brother. If her brother released them from the agreement before anyone learned of it, she wouldn’t suffer. But first Luke must garner her cooperation, which required the audience he had yet to be granted.
He grumbled under his breath as he climbed from bed and made his way to the mantel to retrieve the tinderbox. There was no telling how long he would be delayed while Lady Vivian’s cousin recovered, and his business with Captain Pendry couldn’t wait. Luke’s man of business had forwarded him the ship’s manifest and an accounting of the costs required for supplies. He needed to review the documents before authorizing payment, but he had hoped to ask his friend for help. Captain Daniel Hillary could complete the task in his sleep after years of sea travel, but Hillary was leaving for Brighton at the end of the week. Luke’s hopes of catching him before he left London were dwindling. He would have to complete the work himself.
The char cloth sparked and caught fire. He lit a candle, dressed, and then pulled the documents from an inside coat pocket. Sitting down at the small desk, he resigned to get the task behind him. A tightening in his jaws began before he read half the page. Rubbing the back of his neck, he discovered bunched muscles already forming. Another blasted headache. By the second page, his vision began to blur and a band squeezed his head like an ill-fitting hat. He blinked and tried to clear his sight, but the ink remained a hazy mess on the page.
Devil take it. He threw the papers aside and pushed to his feet. The movement set off a dull drumming in his skull. He cursed aloud. Captain Pendry was at a standstill until Luke responded to his request. Why couldn’t he perform even the simplest tasks without these headaches plaguing him?
He moved to the window and shoved the drapes aside, disgusted. Dawn had begun her subtle painting of the sky. He’d watched many sunrises lately. Even before his father’s death he had been an early riser, but this past year had seen him awake more hours than asleep.
He’d lost his chance to make his father proud, and no amount of wishing would ever bring him back. Before his father’s death, Luke