Read Online Celeste Bradley - [Heiress Brides 01] by Desperately Seeking a Duke - Free Book Online

to politely decline.
    “What a lovely notion!” Tessa’s eyes absolutely glittered with social-climbing glee. “We’ll pack up at once!”
    “No need,” Brookhaven said crisply. “I shall have your things moved by this afternoon.”
    “Oh, that will be grand!” Tessa fluttered and trilled and generally made a rather nauseating show of gratitude. Then her gaze sharpened. “ Until the wedding, did you say?”
    Oh, no. Tessa was playing for hospitality for the entire Season. Since Phoebe would rather stick needles in her eye than live with Tessa one minute more than necessary, she held her breath waiting for Brookhaven’s response.
    Brookhaven gazed at Tessa. Tessa gazed unrelentingly at Brookhaven. Phoebe watched, fascinated by the clash of wills between two people who were obviously used to getting their own way.

    On one hand, it was nice to see Tessa meet her match. On the other hand, Brookhaven had not consulted her, Phoebe, as to her preference in the matter. In fact, he’d not spared her so much as a questioning glance during the entire exchange.
    That did not bode well for the future.
    Then a belated warning bell sounded inside her. There was more to consider here. On one hand, if she went to Brook House, she’d see Marbrook a great deal. On the other hand, if she went to Brook House … she’d see Marbrook a great deal. Either way she was doomed to be in his company more than she’d like—or dangerously less than she wished.
    Lord Brookhaven turned to the vicar. “Sir, I can take you to Brook House now. My valet will be happy to tend to your needs.” Leaving the vicar to blink in bemusement at the thought of having his pants buttoned by another man, Brookhaven turned back to gaze benevolently at the rest of them. “I thought perhaps you ladies would prefer an outing to visit Lementeur. I hear he’s quite the favorite in our set.”
    By the way that Tessa gasped and even Deirdre’s eyes lighted up, this Lementeur was something both desirable and exclusive. Phoebe hadn’t seen Tessa this excited since Deirdre had managed a second waltz with the septuagenarian duke.
    “After all,” Brookhaven went on, “Miss Millbury will be needing a trousseau befitting a marchioness.”
    Now Phoebe felt like a clay target in a shooting match. Bright envy sparked from the gazes of both Tessa and Deirdre. If sharp glances could kill, Phoebe would be dismembered.
    “Who is Lementeur?” Sophie asked.
    Phoebe was glad Sophie wasn’t afraid to appear unsophisticated, for she was burning to know herself.

    Tessa tilted her head and looked at Sophie with unconvincingly fond pity. “Dear child, you really must climb out of your butter churn. Lementeur is only the most exclusive dressmaker in London. It is almost impossible to get an hour of his time, much less to have him agree to make an entire wardrobe!”
    Phoebe blinked. “That is very generous, my lord, but I—”
    He patted her hand unctuously. “It is no matter, my dear. After all, one cannot have one’s wife looking tatty, can one?”
    Tatty. Phoebe doubted he even knew he’d been insulting.
    The vicar cleared his throat. “I do not wish to offend, my lord, but Lady Tessa felt it necessary to speak to me, so I fear I must speak to you. What of your … brother?”
    Brookhaven went quite still. “What of him?”
    Phoebe was every bit as frozen. What of Marbrook? Why did the vicar sound so … tentative? It was as if he wished to speak about a subject not fit for ladies’ ears, which was ridiculous because Marbrook was a perfectly respectable—
    “Your—ahem—brother will be residing at Brook House along with the young ladies, my lord?”
    Brookhaven didn’t move a muscle. “He will. As will both you and Lady Tessa. I hope you are not implying that there will be any impropriety, sir.”
    Tessa bent her head to whisper furiously to Deirdre. Phoebe was torn between listening in and paying attention to the mounting tension between the vicar and the