Read Online Seeking Philbert Woodbead ( A Madcap Regency Romance ) (The Fairweather Sisters) by Anya Wylde - Free Book Online
Authors: Anya Wylde
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hurt his feelings. Go and
apologise.”
“But—”
“No buts.
Go.”
Celine
stabbed the sausage a few times before abandoning it and going in search of
Lord Elmer.
How could
he tell her all those outlandish stories? Telling her his mother was mad, locked
in an attic with a large rabid dog when, in fact, she was a sweet old thing
with a little dog … She stopped and a reluctant smile tugged at her.
She
giggled.
The story
that had seemed only too plausible in candlelight seemed preposterous in broad daylight.
It was partly her fault for being so gullible and believing him. Sensing a
slight softening in her stance she firmly reminded herself that Lord Elmer
still had the letter. She had to find him.
She found
him in the library.
“You lied,”
she accused.
“I was
desperate, Celine. I have to stay here. I was trying to gain your sympathy. You
see the truth is that—”
“I don’t
want to hear any more lies. Just give me the letter.”
“I am
sorry,” he whispered, hanging his head in remorse. He peeked at her hopefully,
his blue eyes shimmering and begging for forgiveness.
She looked
at him and felt a tug at her heart strings. “The letter?”
“Here,” he
said quickly producing it. “Am I forgiven?”
She nodded
and turned to leave.
“Celine?”
He caught her sleeve.
“Yes?”
“Where are
you going?”
“To talk to
the housekeeper.”
“After
that?”
“After
that, I will go over the household accounts with the steward,”
“Why do you
have to do them?”
“Because
Penny has been told to rest. I am here to help her and temporarily take over
her duties.”
“After you
do the accounts?”
“I will go
to Penny’s room and she will dictate letters—”
“What are
the other members of the house doing this morning?” he interrupted.
“The duke will
be working in his study, Penny takes a nap after breakfast and then again in
the afternoon and evening. Dorothy is busy with her lessons, and Sir Henry
never leaves his room unless for dinner.”
“I see.
Thank you.”
Celine
hesitated.
An adorable
lock of hair fell onto his forehead. He looked at her mournfully, his eyes
dirge-like at the prospect of nothing and no one available to entertain him for
the rest of the day.
She
wrenched her eyes away. He had tried to blackmail her, the cad. Squelching
every bit of sympathy for him she ignored the blasted curly lock, the mournful
eyes, and the pouting lips, and walked out.
She refused
to be responsible for his amusement.
Chapter 9
You did
your part
You tore
my heart
Into
tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny shreds
“Lord Elmer,”
Celine gasped. She quickly slammed a book on top of the maps and turned around.
“Give me back the poem.”
“This one
is truly terrible,” he grinned. “Hold on, I will give it back to you, just let
me finish reading it first.”
Celine
lunged and grabbed the sheet out of his hands.
“You
shouldn’t have done that,” He snatched another sheet off the table, “And since
you did, I will read this one aloud just to see you blush.”
She
blushed.
He grinned
and cleared his throat,
Observe
here, my dear friends,
The
sentimental night sky.
It
expects to twinkle upon kissing lovers in dark lanes,
Instead,
it brightens the path for rogues, thugs and prisoners in chains.
Observe
here, my dear friends,
The
sentimental velvet couch.
It expects
to warm the buttocks of lords and ladies, earls and viscounts,
Instead,
it heats up the backsides of footmen that bounce the kitchen maids in return
for small amounts.
Observe
here, my dear friends,
The
sentimental window pane.
It expects
lovely women to
peer out of it and observe the world outside,
Instead,
it finds your ugly nose squished to its panes,
And your
putrid breath fogging up the glass on the inside.
Stop
observing, my dear friends,
For you
are blocking my view through the new optical lens.
Didn’t
you hear me, you fool,
You
mangy blockhead, go away, shoo shoo,
For you
are
apologise.”
“But—”
“No buts.
Go.”
Celine
stabbed the sausage a few times before abandoning it and going in search of
Lord Elmer.
How could
he tell her all those outlandish stories? Telling her his mother was mad, locked
in an attic with a large rabid dog when, in fact, she was a sweet old thing
with a little dog … She stopped and a reluctant smile tugged at her.
She
giggled.
The story
that had seemed only too plausible in candlelight seemed preposterous in broad daylight.
It was partly her fault for being so gullible and believing him. Sensing a
slight softening in her stance she firmly reminded herself that Lord Elmer
still had the letter. She had to find him.
She found
him in the library.
“You lied,”
she accused.
“I was
desperate, Celine. I have to stay here. I was trying to gain your sympathy. You
see the truth is that—”
“I don’t
want to hear any more lies. Just give me the letter.”
“I am
sorry,” he whispered, hanging his head in remorse. He peeked at her hopefully,
his blue eyes shimmering and begging for forgiveness.
She looked
at him and felt a tug at her heart strings. “The letter?”
“Here,” he
said quickly producing it. “Am I forgiven?”
She nodded
and turned to leave.
“Celine?”
He caught her sleeve.
“Yes?”
“Where are
you going?”
“To talk to
the housekeeper.”
“After
that?”
“After
that, I will go over the household accounts with the steward,”
“Why do you
have to do them?”
“Because
Penny has been told to rest. I am here to help her and temporarily take over
her duties.”
“After you
do the accounts?”
“I will go
to Penny’s room and she will dictate letters—”
“What are
the other members of the house doing this morning?” he interrupted.
“The duke will
be working in his study, Penny takes a nap after breakfast and then again in
the afternoon and evening. Dorothy is busy with her lessons, and Sir Henry
never leaves his room unless for dinner.”
“I see.
Thank you.”
Celine
hesitated.
An adorable
lock of hair fell onto his forehead. He looked at her mournfully, his eyes
dirge-like at the prospect of nothing and no one available to entertain him for
the rest of the day.
She
wrenched her eyes away. He had tried to blackmail her, the cad. Squelching
every bit of sympathy for him she ignored the blasted curly lock, the mournful
eyes, and the pouting lips, and walked out.
She refused
to be responsible for his amusement.
Chapter 9
You did
your part
You tore
my heart
Into
tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny shreds
“Lord Elmer,”
Celine gasped. She quickly slammed a book on top of the maps and turned around.
“Give me back the poem.”
“This one
is truly terrible,” he grinned. “Hold on, I will give it back to you, just let
me finish reading it first.”
Celine
lunged and grabbed the sheet out of his hands.
“You
shouldn’t have done that,” He snatched another sheet off the table, “And since
you did, I will read this one aloud just to see you blush.”
She
blushed.
He grinned
and cleared his throat,
Observe
here, my dear friends,
The
sentimental night sky.
It
expects to twinkle upon kissing lovers in dark lanes,
Instead,
it brightens the path for rogues, thugs and prisoners in chains.
Observe
here, my dear friends,
The
sentimental velvet couch.
It expects
to warm the buttocks of lords and ladies, earls and viscounts,
Instead,
it heats up the backsides of footmen that bounce the kitchen maids in return
for small amounts.
Observe
here, my dear friends,
The
sentimental window pane.
It expects
lovely women to
peer out of it and observe the world outside,
Instead,
it finds your ugly nose squished to its panes,
And your
putrid breath fogging up the glass on the inside.
Stop
observing, my dear friends,
For you
are blocking my view through the new optical lens.
Didn’t
you hear me, you fool,
You
mangy blockhead, go away, shoo shoo,
For you
are
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