Read Online Letters to a Lady by Joan Smith - Free Book Online

your nose for sheer joy.”
    She tossed her head. “If you have to come down too heavy for Whitby’s letters, you might recoup the loss by blackmailing Mrs. Somers,” she snipped. “I notice you kept her billets-doux.”
    He went to the drawer, took the packet of letters, and dropped them into the wastebasket.
    “It would be more to the point to burn them,” she said. “Does Mrs. Somers also have a packet of your maudlin ramblings?”
    “No, it is the custom to exchange letters when the affair is over. That ensures their safety. It happened that Mrs. Somers went abroad without retrieving hers, though I had the foresight to recover mine.”
    “Did you return Mrs. Whitby’s?”
    “Of course.”
    Diana sniffed and tossed her shoulders.
    “As all this is so distasteful to you, why do you persist in helping me?” he asked.
    “I told you, I have a favor to ask. But Lady Selena will be here shortly, and besides, I want you in a good mood, so I shall wait till tomorrow. Another little worry for you, wondering what you will be dunned for,” she quizzed.
    “I have enough worries, thank you. The attorney generalship hanging in the balance, the stolen letters, and Lady Selena.”
    “Lady Selena! I didn’t realize she rated as a problem.”
    Harrup looked conscious and spoke quickly. “Marriage is always a problem. It’s an institution designed by ladies to make slaves of men.”
    “It has often occurred to me that it is quite the reverse. It is the ladies who take on the responsibility of running the house and servants and making sure the husband isn’t bothered by the children or any domestic problem. You cannot even complain of the expense. I expect you’ll be getting a fat dowry with your bride.”
    “Naturally I was not speaking about Selena, but about marriage in general,” he said stiffly.
    She gave him a look that went right through him. “Naturally,” she said. “Why are you really getting shackled, Harrup? Is it a prerequisite to the appointment you’re hoping for?”
    “Certainly not, though Liverpool did drop me the hint a married man is considered more stable, less likely to be running wild.”
    “I doubt if it will stop you. I suggest you take the precaution of keeping your desk drawer locked after the nuptials.”
    The sound of carriage wheels was heard on the street, and Diana left. She went after Ronald, and rather than interrupt the arrival of Harrup’s guests by going out the front door, they left by the servants’ entrance.
    “Ronald,” Diana said when they were seated in the carriage, “we aren’t going to Drury Lane, after all.”
    “I’m sure we can get a ticket. It may not be a very good seat, but—would you rather go to Covent Garden?”
    “No, I would rather recover Harrup’s letters. I have got Lord Markwell’s address. Evening is the perfect time to sneak into his apartment and steal them.”
    Ronald turned and laughed lightly. “You are always joking. Di. What the deuce are you talking about, breaking into a gentleman’s home?”
    “Lord Markwell is not a gentleman. He is a thief.”
    Ronald realized by the timbre of his sister’s voice that she was serious. A cold sweat broke out across his shoulders and along his forehead. A quotation drifted through his mind—he couldn’t remember the author. “There is no animal more invincible than woman.” “Oh, dear,” he said softly. “Must we?”
    “Yes, we must, for Harrup has taken the perfectly cork-brained idea of beating Markwell up, and that won’t do his chances of being appointed the attorney general much good. If, on the other hand, you pull him out of the suds, he might just appoint you his special assistant.”
    “Aristophanes,” Ronald murmured.
    “What?”
    “Nothing. Special assistant, did you say?” Ronald asked joyfully. “By jove, that’d be something like. Cuthbert got himself taken on as Lord Worth’s assistant, and Worth is just a plain M.P., not even a privy councillor.”
    “It’s