Page 7 of Avenging the Earl's Lady
“Plans for the coronation are proceeding accordingly.”And the King was demanding his return to London, in all haste, for the honor of scraping and bowing with his fellow peers who were escorting the latest George to his throne.
The maid peeked in and he waved her over.“I must hasten back to London, Kincaid.King’s orders.You’ll stay here.Ewen and Lady Jane can stay as well and see to you, and Fox can provide an extra hand should there be trouble from the squire’s smuggling associates.Girl, go and pack Lady Perpetua’s things and inform her that we’ll leave at first light tomorrow.And have someone look for Fox.”
The girl curtsied and left.
“Neither lady will like this,” Kincaid said.
He eyed his old friend.They’d both been through hell the previous two days, but Kincaid was the worse for wear.
“Get yourself back to bed, Kincaid, and heal up.I’ll need you when we move against San Sebastian.”
Kincaid got to his feet grunting.“Your lady took too much pleasure in poking me with a needle.I’ve a feeling she might bolt.”
His lady?Pleasure stirred fiercely in him and he eased in a breath, fighting for composure.The blasted laudanum was still in his system.“Placid, staid, dependable Jane?”She’d shown great courage the previous night and more than a little answering passion.
Kincaid smirked, shook his head, and left.
Shaldon let out a breath.The laudanum administered by Sir Richard to keep him under control in his captivity had never had the effect of making him a randy fool before, though perhaps he hadn’t had the right lady as inspiration.
He glanced at the letter again.The one Jane received had been much thicker.He’d recognized his daughter-in-law’s handwriting, and Bakeley had mentioned he was forwarding a letter from her solicitor, though not the details of its contents.
But the letter had alarmed Jane.He’d seen the sharp intake of breath that’d sent her breasts higher.
They were fine breasts, too, not weighed down by years of childbearing.She’d kept her youth and her figure, but the price had been living meekly, hand to mouth, and on the charity of others.
She was the daughter of an earl—why the devil had her cousin never found her a husband?A marriage of convenience was the usual refuge for an earl’s daughter, and most couples found a way to muddle through the match-up.
His stomach churned and his gaze went again to the rectangle of painted canvas that had been unmounted to check for the markings.It would be the devil to stretch and put back together.
He would leave that task to Fox while he himself answered the King’s summons.
In any case, London was where his last prey was: the Duque de San Sebastian.The Duque, who thought he’d receivedthispainting.But all the while, it had been hanging in Sir Richard Fenwick’s bedchamber.
Because Shaldon’s late wife, Felicity, had betrayed him.
The ache in his shoulder from the previous day’s injuries spread to the back of his neck.
A flash of red and gold in the window caught his eye.He shoved out of his chair and moved to the curtain.Jane was swathed in the exotic shawl she often wore and heading down the path that snaked around to the back of the cottage.That way led to the cliff road.
She’d been up all night…even for someone well-rested and steady, the cliff road could be dangerous.
