Read Online Miss Quinn's Quandary by Shirley Marks - Free Book Online Page A

in. “I
just didn’t think he was serious.”
    “Of course I am serious.”
    Apparently he was serious. The earl was dressed to the nines.
    “Come along, boy, come along, you need to change. We’ll be late
for sure.” Rushton took the book out of Randall’s hand, pulled him to his feet,
and gave him a sturdy push toward the door.
    “Late?” Randall consulted his watch. “Why, Uncle, we have hours
until we need leave.”
    “Hours?” Rushton gawked at his nephew as if he had sprouted a
second head. He dropped the book onto the small table. “No, no. We need to be
there when the curtain goes up.”
    “You want to see the opera?”
    “I plan on seeing the entire performance, from start to finish.”
    “What?” Randall was now clearly confused. “Which opera is it?”
    “It’s.” Rushton stopped. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll be sleeping
straight through it regardless.”
    “You’re right,” he agreed without contest and set out for his
room to change.
    The Earl of Rushton led the way to his theater box and sat in the
front. Upon entering, Randall eased into a chair behind his uncle. A quick
glance at the other boxes told him they were the only occupants on their level.
Within minutes, the overture started, the curtain rose and Randall could not
prevent his eyelids from lowering.
    “Wake up, lad.” Rushton seized Randall by the arm, waking him
after what felt like only moments of sleep. “Come on, now,” his uncle urged,
impatient.
    “Is it time to leave?” Randall mumbled, rising to his feet still
half asleep.
    “Don’t be an ass. We’re going to see my beloved angel.”
    “Oh, only intermission.” Randall stood, gave a sigh and smoothed
his recently assaulted sleeve. Trudging behind his uncle, he wondered about
this paragon of womanhood his uncle had gone on about for the last two days. On
the other hand, he was quite willing to put off the inevitable meeting of the
dowdy ward.
    Randall came to a sudden stop behind Rushton, who gave no advance
notice of his abrupt halt. The earl pointed at the heavy brocade drape. “She’s
in here. In here, my boy,” he said anxiously, taking a moment to primp. “Do I
look all right?”
    “You look fine, Uncle.” Randall gave him a brush to the back of
his coat and removed a mote of lint. Rushton parted the curtains and stepped
into the box with his nephew close behind.
    Once he stepped inside, Randall stood stock-still. “It’s her,” he
gasped, shocked—no stunned by the woman inside.
    “Of course it’s her.” Rushton’s face reflected his delight at the
nearness of his amour.
    Randall clamped onto his uncle’s arm, preventing him from
advancing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “Why ever do you think we came all the way over here, nodcock ? She is the Dowager Viscountess —”
    “No, no, Uncle, the her I am referring
to is Miss Quinn.” Randall’s eyes widened.
    “Didn’t think I needed to. I thought you made your feelings about
her quite clear the other night,” Rushton recalled. “Wanted her for yourself,
if I’m not mistaken.”
    “Mistaken?” How could his uncle have come up with that
misapprehension? “You couldn’t be further from the truth.”
    “Well, my boy, there are truths and there are truths, aren’t
there?” Rushton pried himself from Randall’s grip. “Ah, well then, we’ll have
to make the best of the situation, won’t we?” The earl advanced toward the
dowager viscountess .
    “The best?” Randall echoed to himself. “I can hardly stand to be
in the same room with her, let alone in the same theater box.”
    With the viscountess ’ dainty gloved
hand in his, Rushton pointed in Randall’s direction. “ Viscountess Claiborne, may I present my nephew, Sir Randall Trent.”
    “How do you do?” the very handsome, matronly woman replied. The
plumes on her turban swayed with every movement of her head.
    Randall accepted her proffered hand and kissed the air some two
inches above. “I have heard so much