Read Online All the Pleasures of the Season by Lecia Cornwall - Free Book Online

handsome face, dashing manners, and charming way with the ladies.
    Ladies like Anthea Endersly.
    Since the betrothal, Marianne had done nothing but gloat about her expert skills as a matchmaker. Miranda stepped away from her sister’s hand on her arm. “I need to write some letters,” she said.
    â€œMany men keep mistresses,” Marianne said, following her up the stairs.
    â€œNot Adam,” Miranda said. “You would not allow it. Should I do differently?”
    Her sister stopped on the stairs behind her and Miranda turned, glared at her. “I will not be my husband’s second choice,” she said. “Or live on the leavings of his time and affection.”
    Marianne was crying. Perhaps Miranda should be crying as well, but she was too angry. “What will you do?” Marianne asked.
    Miranda closed her lips on the first reply that came to mind, since ladies could not call out their fiancés and shoot them dead in Hyde Park. Silently, she went into her bedroom and closed the door.
    She took off the hated betrothal ring and set it carefully on the dressing table, resisting the urge to toss it out the window into the gutter.
    Marianne knocked on the door, but Miranda didn’t answer. She waited until her sister had gone away.
    Then she picked up her cloak, and slipped out of the house.

 
    C HAPTER N INE
    T he Earl of Westlake’s shipping offices were an oasis of elegance perched above the London docks. Two stories below the wide windows, the fetid waters of the Thames caressed the hulls of Westlake’s sleek fleet of merchant ships. Gilbert watched burly sailors carrying heavy bales and boxes up the narrow gangplank as The Edmond made ready to sail in with the early winter dusk.
    Westlake’s office looked like his study at De Courcey House, except for the fact that there were crates and bundles of precious cargo stacked neatly on shelves and tables. Locked mahogany cabinets held priceless tea and spices. Pots filled with exotic plants for the earl’s famous botanical collection were lined up along the windows. Bolts of exotic silk and brocade lay draped on polished tables. Gilbert stared at a length of sky-blue satin, the exact color of Miranda’s eyes. It would make a perfect wedding gown . . .
    He turned away.
    Adam entered the room. “Good afternoon, Fielding. What brings you here?”
    â€œI went to De Courcey House, but they told me you were here,” Gilbert said.
    â€œYes, the Edmond is setting off this evening on a trading mission to India, Ceylon, and a number of other destinations. Wool and English goods go out, and spices, exotic woods, silks, and coffee come back,” Westlake explained. “My investors find it an extremely profitable venture.”
    â€œI haven’t come for that,” Gilbert said quickly. “Can I book passage on the Edmond ? I would like to sail to Spain—now, this evening—if you have space to take me.”
    Westlake’s brows shot up like seabirds taking flight. “So soon? Most regiments are in winter quarters.”
    â€œI wish to depart as soon as possible.”
    Westlake sat down, and indicated a chair across from him. “Is there something afoot I don’t know about? A battle or an invasion, perhaps? Have you received orders?” he asked, his calm tone suggesting that he did not truly believe that to be a possibility.
    Gilbert forced a smile. “Just eager to be off.”
    â€œI see.” Westlake regarded Gilbert in silence for a moment, his head cocked, studying him, as if he were listening to his thoughts.
    Gilbert got to his feet. “Is there space or not, my lord?”
    Adam tented his fingers in front of his chin and continued his perusal. “I am always curious when people are in a hurry. A foible of mine. I shall, of course, need to check with my captain to see what space there is. Can you wait for a few weeks if the Edmond is