Read Online The Prince of Ravenscar by Catherine Coulter - Free Book Online Page B

tears upon being presented to his majesty the king. He was quite without a word to say. My papa-in-law told his majesty the babe, even unborn, was so overcome in his presence, he made his mother weep.
    â€œYou cannot imagine the ruckus that caused. My papa-in-law laughed for a good week. About my husband, you’re right, Roxanne. I particularly like to look at him when he’s sleeping. Every contrary sin he’s committed during the day simply disappears when the candlelight flickers over his lovely self. I try and try, but I can only remain angry with him when I am at least one room away.”
    â€œNot strange at all, I should think,” Roxanne said. “You feel all right now, Corrie?”
    â€œOh, yes, it comes and goes, as I said. Now, that is quite enough about me. I want to know about you and Sophie.”
    Roxanne said thoughtfully, “I was considering staking Devlin out in the sun, to see what happens.”
    Corrie sputtered her tea, wiped her chin, and grinned. “What an amazing idea. How I wish I’d thought of it. When can we do it?”
    Sophie laughed. “How about I suggest to him that he take me out on the Thames at the Marksbury garden party on Saturday? I will feed him a sleeping draught and row back to shore. The three of us will remove him to a far part of the gardens and stake him out.”
    â€œIt will rain on Saturday.”
    Roxanne stared at Corrie. “How do you know?”
    â€œMy mama-in-law told me it is an unbroken law of nature that it always rains when an alfresco luncheon is planned. She told me once she announced a date for an alfresco party, then changed it at the last minute. She said it hadn’t mattered—English nature wasn’t fooled—it poured buckets.”
    â€œI think we should be optimistic,” Sophie said. “If my optimism is misplaced, we will simply postpone the staking until a bright, sunny day. What do you think?”
    â€œI think we are mad,” Corrie said happily, rubbed her hands together, and laughed until she suddenly paled and ran into the corner and threw up.
    â€œI’m coming, my lady,” they heard Willicombe call from outside the drawing-room door.
    â€œI wonder,” Roxanne said later, as their carriage bounced along the cobblestones, “if we should remove Devlin’s coat and shirt.”
    Sophie said, “I wonder if he is as finely made as his uncle Julian.”
    â€œOr Lord Hammersmith,” said Roxanne, and shuddered delicately.

11
    Marksbury Manor On the Thames
    SATURDAY AFTERNOON
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    I t is such a lovely warm day,” Sophie said. “Look yon, my lord, the sun is emerging from behind those lovely fluffy white clouds. I swear I do not smell any coming rain. What do you think?”
    Devlin Monroe looked from the drawing-room window to the sprawl of well-manicured gardens that gently sloped down to the water, where pleasure boats were tethered to a long narrow dock, awaiting young ladies and eager young gentlemen. White tents dotted the landscape because there was always the expectation of rain. Devlin looked at Miss Sophie Wilkie’s lovely dusky complexion. He raised his finger to stroke down her smooth cheek. She started, stared at him for a moment, then took a step back.
    â€œMy apologies. Your beautiful face was there, and my finger wouldn’t be denied. Yes, look, the sun is now coming out. Amazing. Are you certain you wish me to row you on the Thames? Perhaps I should prefer if you rowed me.”
    â€œSince I have practically lived in boats all my life, I should be delighted to row you, my lord. You can wear a hat and carry an umbrella. A black one, so you would not be mistaken for a lady with very short hair and a parasol, in mourning black.”
    A brow shot up. “As an insult, that was fairly comprehensive, Miss Wilkie. Now I must row you, my manhood demands it.”
    She gave him a sweet smile, but there was something