Read Online Midnight Bride by Barbara Allister - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Allister
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Regency, England, Historical Romance, Fiction - Romance, Romance - Historical, Romance - General, Romance - Regency, Romance & Sagas
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about Elizabeth?" Charles ran his hand over his face, wishing he could remember more about the former evening. "What have I done now?"
"Perhaps you should ask the gentleman," Porter suggested quietly, "in a discreet way, naturally."
"And how am I going to go about that? You know me, Porter. Discretion is not something I am good at." Charles sat down and pulled on his pantaloons.
"Would a simple question or two be too difficult?"
"A simple question or two? I can just see myself now. 'Hello, Hartley. Nice day, isn't it. What did I tell you about my sister?' Elizabeth will never forgive me if I have said anything I shouldn't."
"Now, Master Charles. You know your sister will forgive you almost anything."
"It's the 'almost' that is worrying me. If I've created a scandal, we may as well leave for the colonies tomorrow." Charles shrugged into his coat, adjusted his cravat slightly, accepted a handkerchief, and walked to the door. "Ask around, Por- ter, maybe one of the other servants heard something." He put a hand in front of his face and laughed mirthlessly. "If Elizabeth could hear me. I'll try to stay out of her way until luncheon. I'll meet with Carstairs and then head to the stables. If you find out anything, let me know." He shook his head. "Now I'm asking you for the same kind of information you gave my father." He opened the door and peered out cautiously. He looked at the empty hall and breathed a sigh of relief as he headed for the back stairs.
He was no sooner inside the door that hid them from view than he heard someone coming down the hall. "Interesting breakfast," one man said, his voice calm and clear.
"Most fun I've had in days. Dunstan seemed not to know what we were talking about. Clever of Charles to give us such a diversion. Never saw Dunstan so castaway before. Too bad he wasn't that way when we were playing," a young-sounding voice said gleefully.
"Lost deep, did you?"
"Not more than I can bear. Dunstan don't like to win too much from us 'innocents,' he says. Someday I will beat him, and then we will see who is so innocent." Charles heard a door slam and footsteps continue down the hall.
Charles bit back a curse. Not certain who was still in the hall and not wanting to take a chance on being discovered, he hurried down the stairs, heading for the kitchen and a quick escape to Carstairs's office. "No use asking them about last night. But what did they mean about my providing them an amusing diversion? Elizabeth will never let me hear the end of this," he muttered as he entered the kitchen.
"Mr. Beckworth , is there something I can get for you, sir?" Jeffries asked, rising from the table set for his morning tea.
"Coffee." After the butler had prepared it just the way he liked it, Charles took a long drink. "Has my sister been down yet?"
"No, she slept later than usual. I imagine the Madeira you took her last night made her sleep." The butler remained standing, casting a wistful look at his own quickly cooling tea.
"Sit down, Jeffries. I'll be gone in a minute. Just tell me what you mean about the Madeira," said Charles, waving the butler's protests away. His face, normally smiling and pleasant, wore a grim frown. —
The buder wore a solemn expression. "You insisted that you had to speak to the mistress last night, had to apologize. You demanded I send a footman with a bottle of brandy to her bedchamber. But Mr. Hartley intervened. He convinced you to take a bottle of Madeira he had beside him on the table. Master Charles, Madeira is more of a woman's drink than brandy." He paused, concerned that Charles had shown such decided poor taste. Charles merely nodded. "I carried the tray to Miss Elizabeth's room, where you took it from me. You were absent from your guests quite some time. Several people wondered about you. Then you reappeared, said your good nights and went to bed." Jeffries cast an anxious look at his master to see if he was ill.
"How long did I spend with my
"Perhaps you should ask the gentleman," Porter suggested quietly, "in a discreet way, naturally."
"And how am I going to go about that? You know me, Porter. Discretion is not something I am good at." Charles sat down and pulled on his pantaloons.
"Would a simple question or two be too difficult?"
"A simple question or two? I can just see myself now. 'Hello, Hartley. Nice day, isn't it. What did I tell you about my sister?' Elizabeth will never forgive me if I have said anything I shouldn't."
"Now, Master Charles. You know your sister will forgive you almost anything."
"It's the 'almost' that is worrying me. If I've created a scandal, we may as well leave for the colonies tomorrow." Charles shrugged into his coat, adjusted his cravat slightly, accepted a handkerchief, and walked to the door. "Ask around, Por- ter, maybe one of the other servants heard something." He put a hand in front of his face and laughed mirthlessly. "If Elizabeth could hear me. I'll try to stay out of her way until luncheon. I'll meet with Carstairs and then head to the stables. If you find out anything, let me know." He shook his head. "Now I'm asking you for the same kind of information you gave my father." He opened the door and peered out cautiously. He looked at the empty hall and breathed a sigh of relief as he headed for the back stairs.
He was no sooner inside the door that hid them from view than he heard someone coming down the hall. "Interesting breakfast," one man said, his voice calm and clear.
"Most fun I've had in days. Dunstan seemed not to know what we were talking about. Clever of Charles to give us such a diversion. Never saw Dunstan so castaway before. Too bad he wasn't that way when we were playing," a young-sounding voice said gleefully.
"Lost deep, did you?"
"Not more than I can bear. Dunstan don't like to win too much from us 'innocents,' he says. Someday I will beat him, and then we will see who is so innocent." Charles heard a door slam and footsteps continue down the hall.
Charles bit back a curse. Not certain who was still in the hall and not wanting to take a chance on being discovered, he hurried down the stairs, heading for the kitchen and a quick escape to Carstairs's office. "No use asking them about last night. But what did they mean about my providing them an amusing diversion? Elizabeth will never let me hear the end of this," he muttered as he entered the kitchen.
"Mr. Beckworth , is there something I can get for you, sir?" Jeffries asked, rising from the table set for his morning tea.
"Coffee." After the butler had prepared it just the way he liked it, Charles took a long drink. "Has my sister been down yet?"
"No, she slept later than usual. I imagine the Madeira you took her last night made her sleep." The butler remained standing, casting a wistful look at his own quickly cooling tea.
"Sit down, Jeffries. I'll be gone in a minute. Just tell me what you mean about the Madeira," said Charles, waving the butler's protests away. His face, normally smiling and pleasant, wore a grim frown. —
The buder wore a solemn expression. "You insisted that you had to speak to the mistress last night, had to apologize. You demanded I send a footman with a bottle of brandy to her bedchamber. But Mr. Hartley intervened. He convinced you to take a bottle of Madeira he had beside him on the table. Master Charles, Madeira is more of a woman's drink than brandy." He paused, concerned that Charles had shown such decided poor taste. Charles merely nodded. "I carried the tray to Miss Elizabeth's room, where you took it from me. You were absent from your guests quite some time. Several people wondered about you. Then you reappeared, said your good nights and went to bed." Jeffries cast an anxious look at his master to see if he was ill.
"How long did I spend with my
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