Read Online An Unexpected Proposal (St Daine Family 1) by Leighann Dobbs - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Leighann Dobbs
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Adult, Regency, England, Friendship, 19th century, Marriage, Bachelor, Victorian, Britain, Forever Love, Single Woman, unexpected, Proposal, London Society, Marriage Minded, Third Season, Duke Rothwyn, Troubled Brother, Accusing Sister
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only served to draw attention because she heard the man ask, “Do I get an introduction?”
The quirk of humor remained in his voice and Claire wondered whether Lucien would pull her from the protective shadow of his body to deliver the requested presentation, thus ruining her reputation and her life, or if he would continue to protect her with the shield of his body. A full moment of silence—silence during which Claire waited, both trapped and mortified to find herself so—passed with wretched slowness.
Finally, Lucien said, “No.”
The man still hidden within the shadows of the library affected a sigh, issued in such a way as to make her think Lucien's denial of an introduction had landed him a crushing blow. “One of the blooded lasses, I presume? Oh, well. Best you send her to safety then, Rothwyn, because we've a long night ahead of us.”
From her position behind him, Claire could feel Lucien's body stiffen. “You've located Tristan?”
“I have,” his—friend?—acknowledged. “But it is where I've found him that you are going to be none too happy about.”
“I don't give a damn where you found him, Tony, as long as he is alive,” Lucien said, and Claire knew he spoke the truth because she was standing so closely within the shadow of his body she could feel the ripples of tension dissipate as it left him.
“He lives, yes, though not through any effort of his own and not by choice, from what I hear.” The man in the dark shifted, hesitating, but then he said, “Your brother has spent the past few months on board the Valkyrie , Lucien. Do you know what kind of ship the Valkyrie is?”
Pirates .
The word whispered through Claire's head like a fiendish threat in her deepest nightmare, and she gasped, causing Lucien to cast a glance over his shoulder at her.
“Go on. Take the lady upstairs, Lucien,” his friend interrupted from the shadows. His voice sounded tired now, even a bit weary. “See her well settled, and when you return, I will tell you everything I know.”
----
B y mid-morning the following day, Claire was feeling rather anxious. Though none of her concern, she could not help but wonder what Lucien's late-night visitor had revealed to him about the missing St. Daine family member. Nor could she manage to wipe the memory of the duke's heated, passionate kisses from her thoughts.
He had escorted her to her room last night, had even dropped another quick kiss on her lips before pushing her inside her chamber and hurrying away back down the stairs to his friend who waited for him below. But no matter his familiarity in the dark of night when no one else would know, Claire knew she could not exactly rush to his side in the light of day and ask to be brought up on the details. Nor could she seem to think of a plausible excuse to explain away having accepted his kisses to Melisande, should she ask.
She was becoming increasingly fretful over both dilemmas when, shortly after Aggie finished dressing her hair, her mother joined her for a quiet morning visit in her room.
Clarisse Leighton delicately settled herself with her needlework upon a divan which rested against the foot of the large four-posted bed in the room Claire had been given and, after routine “good mornings” were shared, began to quietly ply her needle, forming sure stitches while Claire worried with her dress and paced about the chamber in a disturbing state of agitation.
“You are going to wear a rut in the duke's exquisite carpet, darling,” her mother warned and Claire moved to settle herself at the dressing table—to wait, though for what, she did not know. Her mother's attention focused on her sewing once more, Claire feared she would be forced to pass the remaining half hour before breakfast frowning at her expression in the glass—but then the door to her chamber suddenly flew open hard enough to bang noisily against the opposite wall, making her jump hastily to her feet.
Lady Clarisse jerked, winced, and
The quirk of humor remained in his voice and Claire wondered whether Lucien would pull her from the protective shadow of his body to deliver the requested presentation, thus ruining her reputation and her life, or if he would continue to protect her with the shield of his body. A full moment of silence—silence during which Claire waited, both trapped and mortified to find herself so—passed with wretched slowness.
Finally, Lucien said, “No.”
The man still hidden within the shadows of the library affected a sigh, issued in such a way as to make her think Lucien's denial of an introduction had landed him a crushing blow. “One of the blooded lasses, I presume? Oh, well. Best you send her to safety then, Rothwyn, because we've a long night ahead of us.”
From her position behind him, Claire could feel Lucien's body stiffen. “You've located Tristan?”
“I have,” his—friend?—acknowledged. “But it is where I've found him that you are going to be none too happy about.”
“I don't give a damn where you found him, Tony, as long as he is alive,” Lucien said, and Claire knew he spoke the truth because she was standing so closely within the shadow of his body she could feel the ripples of tension dissipate as it left him.
“He lives, yes, though not through any effort of his own and not by choice, from what I hear.” The man in the dark shifted, hesitating, but then he said, “Your brother has spent the past few months on board the Valkyrie , Lucien. Do you know what kind of ship the Valkyrie is?”
Pirates .
The word whispered through Claire's head like a fiendish threat in her deepest nightmare, and she gasped, causing Lucien to cast a glance over his shoulder at her.
“Go on. Take the lady upstairs, Lucien,” his friend interrupted from the shadows. His voice sounded tired now, even a bit weary. “See her well settled, and when you return, I will tell you everything I know.”
----
B y mid-morning the following day, Claire was feeling rather anxious. Though none of her concern, she could not help but wonder what Lucien's late-night visitor had revealed to him about the missing St. Daine family member. Nor could she manage to wipe the memory of the duke's heated, passionate kisses from her thoughts.
He had escorted her to her room last night, had even dropped another quick kiss on her lips before pushing her inside her chamber and hurrying away back down the stairs to his friend who waited for him below. But no matter his familiarity in the dark of night when no one else would know, Claire knew she could not exactly rush to his side in the light of day and ask to be brought up on the details. Nor could she seem to think of a plausible excuse to explain away having accepted his kisses to Melisande, should she ask.
She was becoming increasingly fretful over both dilemmas when, shortly after Aggie finished dressing her hair, her mother joined her for a quiet morning visit in her room.
Clarisse Leighton delicately settled herself with her needlework upon a divan which rested against the foot of the large four-posted bed in the room Claire had been given and, after routine “good mornings” were shared, began to quietly ply her needle, forming sure stitches while Claire worried with her dress and paced about the chamber in a disturbing state of agitation.
“You are going to wear a rut in the duke's exquisite carpet, darling,” her mother warned and Claire moved to settle herself at the dressing table—to wait, though for what, she did not know. Her mother's attention focused on her sewing once more, Claire feared she would be forced to pass the remaining half hour before breakfast frowning at her expression in the glass—but then the door to her chamber suddenly flew open hard enough to bang noisily against the opposite wall, making her jump hastily to her feet.
Lady Clarisse jerked, winced, and
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