Read Online The Riddle of the Lost Lover by Patricia Veryan - Free Book Online Page B

lady, she was highly born; that Mr. Preston Jones had been among the greatest of Britain’s artists; and that his daughter, Miss Consuela, might have had an Italian Mama, but there was royal blood in her veins, and she could look as high as she pleased for a husband.
    To Manning it was little short of tragic that her mistress must instead smile upon Captain Vespa. Miss Consuela was perhaps just a bit short of being judged beautiful, and she could get very cross very quick, but she was pretty and full of life and charm, and she had a lovely body. Captain Vespa had a scar down one temple, and he limped. People said he was a fine athlete before he became a soldier. He was not a fine athlete now. Worse, he was evidently touched in his upper works, for why in the world would a sane man refuse his rightful title?
    She took Captain Vespa’s hat and cloak and scanned without admiration the ally who trotted in after him. Another example of poor judgment. The captain could have adopted his father’s bloodhounds; to have such creatures as Solomon and Barrister at his heels might have lent him a bit of interest and dignity. But—no! The great hounds had gone to live in the country with Lieutenant Manderville’s father, and the captain was accompanied as always by ‘Corporal,’ a small dog with long greyish-brown hair and no consequence whatever. It was all of a piece, thought Manning resentfully, and opened the drawing room door to announce, “Captain Vespa, my lady.”
    Vespa sensed the tension in the air when he entered the drawing room. Lady Francesca looked vexed, and Consuela hurried to stand at the window and surreptitiously dab a handkerchief at her eyes.
    â€œGood morning, ladies,” he said as he crossed to kiss the hand of the little duchess.
    â€œYou are late,” she scolded, tapping his cheek with her fan. “We have expecting you an hour since.”
    â€œAnd Paige did not come as he promised,” said Consuela, gaining control of herself and turning to face Vespa.
    He bowed and, meeting the ardent smile that was then levelled at her, she wondered how Grandmama could be anything but charmed by the hazel eyes so intriguingly flecked with gold, or the strong chin and sensitive mouth, and the way the thick hair—She gave a shocked gasp and flew to touch the gash above his eyebrow. “What now? You are hurt again! I vow I cannot let you out of my sight for one moment but you are into trouble! Tell me!”
    â€œ Che orrore! ” Lady Francesca threw up her hands. “Have you none of the manners, Signorina Consuela? Ring the bell! First, we offer Captain Jack coffee and the politenesses. Then, he may tell us his tales!”
    Consuela’s ‘politenesses’ extended to ringing the bell, but her impatience could scarcely be contained, and the moment Manning had gone off to gather refreshments Vespa was commanded to tell them about his evening’s activities. It was not an easy task, for he was interrupted frequently, but when he named the victim of the street attack both ladies were startled into silence. They did not recover their vocal powers until he described his interview at the Horse Guards, whereupon the duchess unleashed a flood of Italian during which her small hands were flourished about wildly and expressions such as stupidita! and pazzia! were so scornfully uttered as to leave little doubt of their meaning.
    Unaccustomedly mute, Consuela at length said a puzzled, “But why would they lie about it? And why would Colonel Adair have behaved in such a strange fashion? Jack—you’re quite sure it was him?”
    â€œQuite sure. Though both Major Blaine and my army surgeon did their best to convince me I’m wits to let.”
    Consuela asked sharply, “Why should your doctor have been there?”
    â€œThat’s what Broderick wanted to know. It seems Captain Rickaby is cousin to the major. Perhaps it was pure coincidence