Read Online One Night of Scandal by Nicola Cornick - Free Book Online

almost too late. Her defences were undermined, her emotions engaged. It seemed to Deb that she had known Richard Kestrel for an age and yet suddenly all her preconceived notions of him were being challenged and her prejudices tumbling. She had started to let him close to her. And now that he was close, there was no way on earth that he would let her escape him. It was the most perilous thing that she could have done.

Chapter Four
    L ord Richard Kestrel had been reading the Suffolk Chronicle with extreme attention for the past three days. It was a newspaper that previously he had dismissed as tiresomely provincial in its outlook. Generally speaking, he preferred to have his newspapers delivered directly from London. Now, however, he pored over every page of the Chronicle . His curiosity—and much else—was aroused. What was the communication that Mrs Stratton had sent to the editor of the Chronicle ? He had scanned the letters page to no avail, had waded his way through endless advertisements for Doctor Solomon’s Cordial Balm of Gilead and was losing the will to live over the countless reports of agricultural sales at Woodbridge market.
    Then, on the third morning after Olivia Marney’s musicale, he found it. His eye was caught by a small notice at the bottom of page six, wedged in between an advert for the erection of a patented thrashing machine and a notice about a zoological collection that boasted a one horned rhinoceros.
    A lady requires the assistance of a gentleman. If any gentleman of honour, discretion and chivalry will venture to answer this notice and despatch a reply to Lady Incognita at the Bell and Steelyard Inn, Woodbridge, Suffolk, then he shall have no reason to repent his generosity.
    A small smile curled Lord Richard’s mouth as he considered the identity of Lady Incognita. Could she be none other than the utterly infuriating, utterly entrancing Deborah Stratton? And if so, what assistance did she require from her discreet gentleman? Richard’s mind was positively boggling.
    There was only one way to find out, of course. Richard went across to the inlaid cherry-wood desk in the window and extracted a pen and an inkhorn from the top left-hand drawer. Sitting down, he pulled the paper towards him and started to write.
     
    ‘Mrs Lester tells me that the cellars have flooded again,’ Mrs Aintree said, over breakfast that morning. ‘One of the hams your brother-in-law sent over is quite ruined and the case of wine you laid down is under water.’
    ‘The duck decoy must be blocked again,’ Deb said. She was eating a buttered egg with one hand and turning the pages of the Suffolk Chronicle with the other whilst she scanned the advertisements. ‘I will go and take a look after breakfast.’
    ‘Could you not send to Marney for the gamekeeper to come?’ Mrs Aintree suggested, the very slightest edge to her tone. ‘It is scarce appropriate for you to be grubbing about in the undergrowth; indeed, it could be positively dangerous.’
    Deb laughed. ‘Dangerous? The duck decoy? I doubt there is more than a foot of water in it and the ducks are scarcely threatening creatures.’
    ‘That was not what I meant,’ Mrs Aintree said severely. ‘When are you going to stop behaving like a hoyden, Deborah? Although your father is quite wrong to try and coerceyou into marriage, I do believe that the fundamental idea might be of value. With a proper home and family of your own—’
    Something like a shaft of pain wedged itself in Deborah’s breast and she pushed the remains of the egg aside. ‘I have a home here, Clarrie,’ she said. She folded the newspaper and stood up. ‘Pray excuse me. I shall take a quick look at the pond to see if the sluices are jammed and then I shall send to Ross for assistance.’
    As a concession to propriety, Deb went to fetch her bonnet and spencer before venturing out. Neither was strictly necessary in the functional sense, since no one was going to see her and the weather was