Page 48 of One Night with a Prince
I regret that I will be unable to accompany you to the theater tonight. Urgent business calls me to Bath. I am uncertain of how long I will be gone, but I will call on you directly upon my return. In the meantime, you may wish to read the books about whist that I am sending along. You may also wish to practice your Patience.
Sincerely,
Byrne
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlShe gaped at the note, then balled it up in her fist. Of all the arrogant, presumptuous—They’d made a bargain, blast it, and now he’d trotted off to Bath without even considering her lessons!
Lessons. “Rosa? Were there books included with the note?”
“I believe so. The footman has them.” Smiling to herself, Rosa gathered up the clothing Christabel had tossed onto a chair the night before. “So what does your Mr. Byrne have to say?”
“He’s had to go to Bath on business.” She tossed Byrne’s note aside. “Lord only knows when he’ll return.”
“It will not be long, I wager, not when he left these behind.” With a smirk, Rosa held up a pair of obviously male drawers. “Shall I have them cleaned and kept for his future visits?”
A blush rose in her cheeks. “You can burn them as far as I’m concerned.” Leaping from the bed, Christabel paced the room. “I won them from him in a card game last night.”
“You bested the gambler?”
“Yes, for all the good it did me.”
Rosa started to smile.
“What areyou smiling about?” Christabel said peevishly.
“Nothing.” Rosa folded the waistcoat very carefully. “It is just…curious that you would win. Perhaps he was distracted?”
He’d been distracted, all right—with plotting how to get her out of her clothes and into his arms. And when that hadn’t brought quite the success he’d expected, he’d rushed off to Bath without one whit of concern for the fact that Lord Stokely’s party was less than two weeks away. Had he done it because she’d refused to share his bed? Horrible thought. Could his passions be so powerful that one denial would send him off in a temper?
Somehow, that didn’t sound like the controlled Byrne she knew.
“Do you wish to dress?” Rosa asked.
“Yes, of course.” No matter what Byrne did, she still had to continue with their plan. And that meant meeting the dressmaker.
As Rosa helped her don another ugly mourning gown, Christabel’s mind wandered back to Byrne’s defection. What was in Bath that he might consider “business”? She’d never heard of his owning a club there. So if it didn’t have to do with his gambling affairs—
She paled. What if it concerned a woman? He might very well have a mistress hidden away there, one who wouldn’t hesitate to satisfy the urges Christabel had refused to satisfy exactly as he’d wished. She waited impatiently as Rosa did up her buttons. So help her, if Byrne had a mistress in Bath—
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlAnd if he did? She had no hold on him. She’d never said he couldn’t be with other women. He’d never protested Lady Jenner’s claim that he was incapable of fidelity. So why should she assume that just because he’d kissed and caressed her, it meant anything?
Blast him! This was precisely why she hadn’t wanted him to touch her. She’d known exactly how it would affect her foolish heart.
No, not her heart. Just her pride and sense of fairness. How dared he run off to Bath in the middle of their bargain? Practice her Patience indeed—when he returned, she would give him a piece of her mind, she would. The audacity of the man—to preach patience to her when he was ignoring their agreement!
A knock at the door jerked her from her thoughts. “My lady,” said one of the lower maids, “the dressmaker is here.”
“Tell her I’ll be there shortly,” Christabel called out.
Rosa forced her to a chair so she could put her hair into some semblance of respectability. As the brush flew through Christabel’s tangles too swiftly for comfort, she tried to calm her irritation with Byrne. At least she could have a sensible discussion with the dressmaker today, without having to deal with the man’s searing glances that said he wanted to fondle and kiss every inch—
She let out an oath as her knees went weak. Blast him for turning her into this silly female, capable of falling into a faint just because he smiled at her. Philip had never done that to her.
“There,” Rosa said. “Good enough for the dressmaker, is it not?”
“Yes. And you should probably stay out of her way. She doesn’t like having ladies’ maids around.”
Before Rosa could protest, Christabel jumped up and hurried from the room. Today Mrs. Watts had an assistant with her, a pretty young woman with riotous brown curls who dropped into a deep curtsy as Christabel entered the parlor. That was something Christabel would never get used to—the courtesies that came to her because of her now lofty station. She didn’t reallyfeel like a marchioness. She felt more like a general’s daughter—his wayward daughter who had let him down. Certainly not deserving of any curtsies.
