Page 53 of Daring the Forbidden Earl
“I think the dining room,” Mark replied, as he came to the bottom of the staircase.
Chalke looked relieved. “An excellent choice, My Lord.”
They walked together to the dining room, where Mark sat down and waited for his breakfast to be placed in front of him. As the plate of eggs touched the table, it caused the eggs to jiggle slightly, bringing an amused smirk to Mark’s face. Indeed, they rather reminded him of Johanna’s remarkable breasts.
I am the most fortunate man in England, for I will soon be wed to the most beautiful, amusing, intelligent, witty, sensual young lady in the country.
“Are you feeling quite well, My Lord? I do not mean to be impolite, but you said it was a beautiful morning when it is decidedly grim outside, and now you are chuckling at eggs.” Chalke raised a concerned eyebrow.
Mark pursed his lips. “Am I not permitted to be in good spirits?”
“Of course, My Lord, but it is my duty to ensure you are in good health,” Chalke replied hastily. “And you did return rather late last night, so I did not know if you had, perhaps, imbibed or taken a knock to the head in a brawl of some kind.”
In truth, Mark was in too bright a mood to allow his manservant’s sardonic comments to ruin it. And so, rather than scolding Chalke or making a scathing retort, he simply laughed, which seemed to alarm the manservant even more.
“Now, I am going to need your expertise this morning, if you are not otherwise engaged observing tarts in the kitchens and trying to shirk.” Mark flashed Chalke a wink, to let him know there was still some of his former self present. “I am going to be venturing northward tomorrow, so I will need the carriage prepared. Similarly, if you could ensure I have enough garments and suchlike to last me… a couple of weeks, perhaps, then I would appreciate it.”
Chalke’s eyes bugged. “Where are you going, My Lord?”
“I thought I might go to the country manor for a brief spell,” Mark lied. The only person more likely to stage an intervention than Kenneth was Chalke. “I have grown weary of London and feel a different landscape would refresh me.”
Chalke relaxed slightly. “Will I be accompanying you, My Lord?”
“Goodness, no,” Mark replied, a note too quickly. “I am going there to find peace and quiet, and though I am always grateful for your company, I would feel much happier knowing you were here, taking care of the London house. As I said, I do not think I shall be gone for too long.”
“As you prefer, My Lord.” Chalke pouted a little, as he exited the dining room. He returned a few minutes later with the silver post tray and set it down beside Mark’s jiggling eggs before he disappeared again.
Cutting into his eggs and watching the vivid yellow yolk stream out across the white of the plate, Mark flipped absently through the small pile of correspondence. Now that he was no longer looking out for Johanna’s letters, he found he did not take as much joy in the morning postal tray.
As he came to the very last letter that rested against the etched silver, his heart gave an unbidden jolt. The cursive penmanship was uncomfortably familiar, though he had hoped he would never have to see it again.
I knew this might happen, but all I have to do is reach tomorrow and I can forget I ever knew the name Lord Dresday.
Swallowing the bile that threatened to rise up his throat, he plucked up the offending letter and quickly cracked open the seal on the back. His mouth dried out as he unfurled the letter and began to read, praying that he was mistaken about the handwriting, or that there was another reasonable explanation for its appearance in his morning correspondence.
Lord Sinclair,
If you are reading this, then you are fortunate that my pistol shot did not strike something of vital importance. As for your friend and his pistol shot—I am not best pleased, after the instruction I gave you.
I should have known you would be stubborn. I should have known that you would not be honorable and would seek to undermine me. You think yourself invincible, and that you may do as you please, but I am going to teach you a lesson you will not soon forget. I gave you a chance and you squandered it. Our encounter did not have to conclude like that, but you decided to shed blood.
Consider this your last and final warning. As for what will happen now… you shall have to wait and see, though I am quite certain you will wish you had come alone and unarmed.
Yours Regretfully,
HS.
Mark dropped the letter as though it were ablaze, and the ink had singed his fingertips. He had more or less forgotten about the possible repercussions, after he had come up with his solution to block Lord Dresday’s ambitions.
“I must not let this trouble me. Once tomorrow comes, there will be nothing he can do.” Mark hurriedly folded the letter back up and stuffed it into his pocket. Abandoning his eggs, he rushed out of the dining room, down the hallway, across the entrance hall, and out into the street. There, he hailed a Hackney carriage, and instructed the driver to take him directly to Johanna’s apartments.
She might have told him to remain at his townhouse and make preparations, but he could not shake the terrible feeling that Lord Dresday might strike at her. Until tomorrowdidcome, he could not risk leaving her alone, not even for a moment.
Chapter Thirty-One
Johanna tentatively answered the loud knock at the door, though there had been no knocks to keep her awake through last night. Evidently, Lord Dresday had been too injured by Kenneth’s shot to resume his mischief at her door.
I should not say so, but I pray his injury keeps him in his bed until tomorrow, so we may escape undetected.
