Page 42 of Masquerading with the Duke
Zach undressed and attended to his ablutions quickly. He then dismissed his valet, belted his robe over his naked body and slipped through the door that connected the master chamber to Frankie’s room.
‘There you are,’ she said, blinking up at him and sending him a sleepy smile. ‘I thought you had got lost. You smell of brandy,’ she added in a half-hearted protest when he shed his robe and slipped into bed beside her.
‘I was talking with Amos,’ he said, ‘and lost track of the time.’
‘That’s one occupation which I cannot scold you for. Nor can I accuse you of neglect. You were deprived of your favourite brother’s company for too long for me to resent the time you spend with him now.’
The windows of Frankie’s chamber were thrown wide to welcome the breeze that had sprung up earlier that evening, and a full moon cast shafts of light over her profile. Zach slipped an arm around her shoulders, she rested the side of her face on his chest and for a moment or two, he simply indulged himself by looking at her and counting his good fortune.
‘You’re staring,’ she protested.
‘I am enjoying the view.’
Frankie laughed; a beautiful woman who steadfastly refused to believe there was anything out of the ordinary about her. ‘I am a mother four times over and I found a grey hair this morning.’
Zach affected a shocked expression. ‘Well, if I had known that…’
‘Precisely. I can assure you there is no longer anything to admire, even though you will insist that there might once have been.’
‘Allow me to be the judge of that.’ He kissed the end of her nose. ‘Despite your grey hair and matronly figure…’ He waved a hand at her shapely form, ‘I still seem to be very much in love with you. I can’t seem to help myself.’
She pretended to be perplexed. ‘It’s an oddity.’
‘Well, there you have it. There’s nothing to be done other than to make the best of the situation.’
‘What did you and Amos find to talk about for so long?’ she asked, snuggling down into a more comfortable position.
Frankie listened as he explained about Braden’s concerns regarding Redrow.
‘It’s true then. The horrible mandidtry to compromise her.’ Frankie bit her lower lip. ‘And I persuaded her to take the position. I feel dreadful.’
‘It is not your fault, my love.’ Zach held her a little closer. ‘You were not to know.’
‘Even so…’ She shook her head against Zach’s shoulder. ‘Why can men not control their baser instincts?’
‘We are all of us beasts.’
Frankie smiled. ‘Not you. Well, not really. But Martina’s problem is not an uncommon one. I constantly hear of maids who have got into trouble. They are always blamed for possessing loose morals and the men who forced them into indiscretion get away with it. I am just glad that Martina felt she could come back here, otherwise…’
‘She’s a sensible girl. She’s had to be.’
‘I noticed Mr Braden take a great deal of interest in her tonight. He took her into dinner and spent a long time with her on the terrace.’
Zach rolled his eyes when he saw Frankie’s face, highlighted by shafts of moonlight, coming alive as possibilities occurred to her. ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist matchmaking,’ he said, groaning and pretending to be cross.
‘I am doing no such thing, Zachary Sheridan,’ she replied, indignantly punching his shoulder. ‘I am merely making an observation.’
‘Good, because Martina is far too young to be thinking in such terms.’
‘She might not yet be seventeen, but she has lived through enough horrors to be very mature for her age.’ He sensed his wife’s scowl. ‘I think it a very great pity that she has been obliged to grow up so quickly and wish she could enjoy her share of innocent pleasures without being pestered by men with dishonourable intentions.’
‘Amos said something similar.’
‘Well, I clearly misjudged Mr Redrow.’ She leaned up on one elbow. ‘Thank you for not pointing out that you advised caution regarding the connection.’
‘I didn’t; not precisely. I had my doubts about him, but he was seldom around and it was his wife with whom you struck up a friendship of sorts.’
‘It’s clear to me now that she went out of her way to make my acquaintance, always being at the orphanage, helping out and making a fuss of the children, whenever I was due to be there. Sara told me yesterday that it’s the only time she shows her face; when she knows I am due, I mean. I was quite taken in by her apparently genuine desire to help the poor children.’
