Read Online The Stanforth Secrets by Jo Beverley - Free Book Online Page B

with a chuckle. “A hero from the war, a rich nobleman . . . You will be a prime target, I’m afraid. What a shame you sold out. If you could still wear your uniform they would swoon at your feet.”
    Justin looked dubious. “I think you mixed a metaphor there or something, Chloe. After all, any infantry that swoons at the sight of regimentals would be in a parlous state.”
    “No, no,” she said mischievously. “War paint is all a question of context. What would the gentlemen in uniform do when faced by those beauties with their glossy curls and low, filmy gowns?”
    “Stand to attention, I would think,” he said dryly. The wicked glint in his eyes had warned her, but she still choked on her sip of wine.
    Randal and the Duchess laughed and Chloe could not help but chuckle. She told herself she had no taste for these risqué conversations, so why did she feel inebriated on one glass of wine? Why did she know her eyes sparkled more brightly than the crystal lusters on the chandelier?
    Later, as the company laughed at one of Randal’s wry anecdotes, Chloe exclaimed, “Oh, this has been such a pleasant meal. I had forgotten how it could be. I cannot wait to rejoin Society. Grandmama has invited me to the Towers for Christmas and then I shall go south for the Season. There are any number of friends I wish to visit on the way.”
    “I hope you won’t rush away too soon, Chloe,” said Justin with a frown. “After all, I have a great deal to learn.”
    “No, of course not. But before the end of the month I would think.”
    “Why not stay here for Christmas?” he asked, and Chloe thought, guiltily, that it might be lonely and awkward for him here, with only Belinda and the Dowager. But she could not stay, must not stay.
    “Oh, I don’t think so, Justin,” she said hastily. “It is kind of you, but I have promised Grandmama.”
    A glance at that surprised lady begged for support.
    “Well,” said the Duchess. “I do want to be home before the hard weather, true enough.”
    With that, Chloe rose to lead the ladies to the drawing room and their tea. The Dowager Lady Stanforth was obviously tired and soon decided to seek her bed. Belinda sat by her embroidery frame to do some pretty work on the hem of a dress for her child.
    “What was all that about, gel?” asked the Duchess quietly.
    “All that?” queried Chloe.
    “My rushing back home.”
    “Well, I’m sure you do want to be at the Towers for Christmas, do you not?”
    “A mere three months away,” pointed out the old lady.
    Chloe felt as beleaguered as Lord Wellington’s retreating forces. “Now Justin is home,” she said firmly, “it is time to leave.”
    The Duchess sipped her tea and eyed her granddaughter. When she spoke, however, it was to say calmly, “As you will. Why don’t you play the pianoforte, my dear. Some Bach perhaps.”
    Obediently, Chloe went to the piano. As she opened the instrument, however, she remembered a past comment of her grandmother’s that Bach tended to straighten tangled minds. She looked suspiciously at the old lady but the Duchess sat nodding and staring into the fire, as innocent as a lamb.
    Chloe played Bach’s fugue in E minor with clarity and precision. Her mind was as clear as a tidal pool, she told herself. She had the chance to start her life afresh, and she would not allow the undoubted Delamere charm to sway her once again.
    The unwary might have thought the Duchess sleeping, but as soon as the gentlemen entered the room her head came up and her eyes scanned them, as bright as ever.
    “Ha! About time,” she declared. “We’ll have a hand of whist. Find the cards, Chloe.” She looked at Belinda. “You don’t play, do you, gel?”
    Belinda colored at this but it was the only sign of discomposure. “In fact, I do, Your Grace,” she said calmly. “George used to say I play very well.”
    “Oh. Well, you are doubtless busy with your needlework, are you not?” said the old lady anxiously, and then