Read Online The Reluctant Duke (Love's Pride Book 1) by G.L. Snodgrass - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: G.L. Snodgrass
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solicitous to Isabel and that Lizzy noticed it also.
Smiling to herself like the cat with the canary, Lizzy watched her new friend. So that explains the seating change, Lizzy was acting as matchmaker. He didn’t know what he thought about that, but as long as she didn’t start with him he’d let it rest for now.
The evening was a huge success, an excellent meal followed by parlor games and gentle conversation. Baron Jensen proved to be a jovial companion and his wife an intelligent, interesting woman.
Their daughter Mary was betrothed to a young man currently serving in France. She had peppered him with questions about the Army and life in France. She was obviously well enamored of her young man, and he was more than happy to answer her questions. The fact that she was off the marriage market made the entire evening go so much easier.
After their guests had departed Thomas pulled Lizzy aside and gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the top of her head.
“It was a wonderful evening, you did a very good job,” he said.
She smiled up at him and then said, “I couldn’t have done it without Miss Harding, she knows everything, what should be on the menu, who should be seated next to whom. What we should talk about, everything.”
“Yet you felt comfortable enough changing the seating arrangements at the last minute,” He said with a knowing smile.
Lizzy blushed and looked down, embarrassed at being caught.
“It worked out well, don’t you think,” she said with a knowing smile that reminded him of his mother. His heart ached for a moment; she was much more a woman than a little girl.
Chapter Seven
It was late or early depending how you thought about it. His valet had departed for the evening. Thomas rubbed the back of his neck trying to relieve the knot of tension put there by too many hours poring over old ledgers. He’d spent hours holed up in his study comparing them to the figures brought back by the Sergeant Major.
Kicking off his boots, he pulled his shirt over his head before tossing it onto a chair. He was preparing to lower his pants when he heard a high pitched scream from the other side of the building. Lizzy?
Without thinking, he was out the room and running down the hall, cursing his wounded leg and the fact that it wouldn’t move as it should. His heart raced as he imagined all kinds of terror happening to his little sister.
He rounded onto the girl’s wing. A door halfway down the hall was open with a weak light leaking into the hallway.
Rushing as hard as his leg would let him he burst into the room.
Isabel lay on the floor in her night clothes. Miss Harding stood over her wearing nothing but a night rail with a fireplace poker held over her shoulder like a cricket bat.
Yelling, “Get away from her.” She swung and hit a tall, thin man in the chest with a thick thunk sound. The stark white look on her face reminded him of soldiers he’d seen in hand to hand combat; the rage and blood lust had taken over.
Not waiting, Thomas grabbed the man by the collar and belt then threw him across the room, getting him away from his women. The man flew through the air like a wounded duck before landing on his back with a shock that vibrated through the floor boards.
Thomas turned and checked on the women, they appeared to be all right. Scared, but unharmed. Miss Harding stood there with the poker raised, ready to defend them. Isabel lay on the ground, resting on her elbows as she prepared to get up from the floor.
Lizzy appeared in the door and ran to hold Isabel. All four of them turned to look at the attacker.
Mr. Strait writhed on the ground grabbing at his chest trying to get his breath back.
Thomas’ hand instinctively grasped for an absent sword at his waist. Cursing under his breath, he pulled a bare foot back to kick the man in the head.
You’re not in France anymore he thought to himself with just enough time to save Mr. Strait from a severe headache.
Reaching down, he pulled
Smiling to herself like the cat with the canary, Lizzy watched her new friend. So that explains the seating change, Lizzy was acting as matchmaker. He didn’t know what he thought about that, but as long as she didn’t start with him he’d let it rest for now.
The evening was a huge success, an excellent meal followed by parlor games and gentle conversation. Baron Jensen proved to be a jovial companion and his wife an intelligent, interesting woman.
Their daughter Mary was betrothed to a young man currently serving in France. She had peppered him with questions about the Army and life in France. She was obviously well enamored of her young man, and he was more than happy to answer her questions. The fact that she was off the marriage market made the entire evening go so much easier.
After their guests had departed Thomas pulled Lizzy aside and gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the top of her head.
“It was a wonderful evening, you did a very good job,” he said.
She smiled up at him and then said, “I couldn’t have done it without Miss Harding, she knows everything, what should be on the menu, who should be seated next to whom. What we should talk about, everything.”
“Yet you felt comfortable enough changing the seating arrangements at the last minute,” He said with a knowing smile.
Lizzy blushed and looked down, embarrassed at being caught.
“It worked out well, don’t you think,” she said with a knowing smile that reminded him of his mother. His heart ached for a moment; she was much more a woman than a little girl.
Chapter Seven
It was late or early depending how you thought about it. His valet had departed for the evening. Thomas rubbed the back of his neck trying to relieve the knot of tension put there by too many hours poring over old ledgers. He’d spent hours holed up in his study comparing them to the figures brought back by the Sergeant Major.
Kicking off his boots, he pulled his shirt over his head before tossing it onto a chair. He was preparing to lower his pants when he heard a high pitched scream from the other side of the building. Lizzy?
Without thinking, he was out the room and running down the hall, cursing his wounded leg and the fact that it wouldn’t move as it should. His heart raced as he imagined all kinds of terror happening to his little sister.
He rounded onto the girl’s wing. A door halfway down the hall was open with a weak light leaking into the hallway.
Rushing as hard as his leg would let him he burst into the room.
Isabel lay on the floor in her night clothes. Miss Harding stood over her wearing nothing but a night rail with a fireplace poker held over her shoulder like a cricket bat.
Yelling, “Get away from her.” She swung and hit a tall, thin man in the chest with a thick thunk sound. The stark white look on her face reminded him of soldiers he’d seen in hand to hand combat; the rage and blood lust had taken over.
Not waiting, Thomas grabbed the man by the collar and belt then threw him across the room, getting him away from his women. The man flew through the air like a wounded duck before landing on his back with a shock that vibrated through the floor boards.
Thomas turned and checked on the women, they appeared to be all right. Scared, but unharmed. Miss Harding stood there with the poker raised, ready to defend them. Isabel lay on the ground, resting on her elbows as she prepared to get up from the floor.
Lizzy appeared in the door and ran to hold Isabel. All four of them turned to look at the attacker.
Mr. Strait writhed on the ground grabbing at his chest trying to get his breath back.
Thomas’ hand instinctively grasped for an absent sword at his waist. Cursing under his breath, he pulled a bare foot back to kick the man in the head.
You’re not in France anymore he thought to himself with just enough time to save Mr. Strait from a severe headache.
Reaching down, he pulled
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