Read Online The Untamed Bride Plus Black Cobra 02-03 and Special Excerpt by Stephanie Laurens - Free Book Online
Authors: Stephanie Laurens
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delay him for a week or so.
Reading his aunt’s salutation, followed by an enthusiastic, even effusive, welcome, he smiled and read on.
He wasn’t smiling by the time he reached the end of the first page. Laying it aside, he deciphered the rest, then tossed the second sheet on the first and quietly, but comprehensively, swore.
After staring at the sheets for several minutes, he gathered them up, rose and, stuffing the sheets in his pocket, made his way back to the inn’s foyer.
Bowden heard his footsteps and came out from his office behind the counter. “Yes, Colonel?”
“I understand a young lady, a Miss Duncannon, was due to arrive here some weeks ago?”
Bowden smiled brightly. “Yes, indeed, sir. I’d forgotten—she asked after you, too.”
“Indeed. I take it she’s left and headed north?”
“Oh, no, sir. Her ship was delayed, too. She didn’t get in until last week. Quite relieved, she was, to learn you’d been delayed, too. She’s still here, waiting on your arrival.”
“Ah. I see.” Del suppressed a grimace and started makingplans. “Perhaps if you could send word to her room that I’ve arrived, and would appreciate a moment of her time?”
Bowden shook his head. “No use at present—she’s out, and she’s taken her maid with her. But I can tell her as soon as she comes in.”
Del nodded. “Thank you.” He hesitated, then asked, “Is there a private parlor I might hire?” Somewhere where he and his unexpected burden could discuss her onward journey.
“I’m sorry, sir, but all our parlors are presently taken.” Bowden paused, then said, “But it’s Miss Duncannon herself as has the front parlor—perhaps, seeing she’s waiting to see you, you might wait for her in there?”
“An excellent notion,” Del responded dryly. “And I’ll need to hire a carriage.”
But again Bowden shook his head. “I’d like to oblige, Colonel, but this close to Christmas all our carriages are spoken for. Miss Duncannon herself took the last of our post chaises.”
“Fortuitous,” Del murmured. “I was wanting the carriage for her.”
“Well, then.” Bowden grinned. “All’s well.”
“Indeed.” Del pointed to the room to the right of the foyer. “The front parlor?”
“Aye, sir. Go right in.”
Del did, shutting the door behind him.
With white plaster walls and heavy timber beams crossing the ceiling, the parlor was neither overlarge nor cramped, and boasted one of the wide bow windows looking out on the street. The furniture was heavy, but comfortable, the pair of chintz-covered armchairs well-supplied with plump cushions. A highly polished round table with four chairs stood in the middle of the room, a large lamp at its center, while a crackling fire sparked and flared in the grate, throwing welcome heat into the room.
Gravitating toward the hearth, Del noticed the three watercolors above the mantelpiece. They were landscapes depicting green pastures and meadows, lush fields andrichly canopied trees beneath pastel blue skies with fluffy white clouds. The one in the middle, of rolling heathland, a vibrant patchwork of greens, caught his eye. He hadn’t laid eyes on such landscapes for seven long years; it seemed odd to gain his first sense of home via pictures on a wall.
Glancing down, he drew out the letter from his aunts; standing before the fire, he scanned it anew, searching for some insight into why the devil they’d thought to saddle him with the duty of escorting a young gentlewoman, daughter of a neighboring landowner, home to Humberside.
His best guess was that his doting aunts had some idea of playing matchmaker.
They were going to be disappointed. There was no place for a young lady in his train, not while he was a decoy for the Black Cobra.
He’d been disappointed when he’d opened the scroll he’d selected and discovered he hadn’t picked the original letter. Nevertheless, as Wolverstone had made clear, the missions of the three decoys would be
Reading his aunt’s salutation, followed by an enthusiastic, even effusive, welcome, he smiled and read on.
He wasn’t smiling by the time he reached the end of the first page. Laying it aside, he deciphered the rest, then tossed the second sheet on the first and quietly, but comprehensively, swore.
After staring at the sheets for several minutes, he gathered them up, rose and, stuffing the sheets in his pocket, made his way back to the inn’s foyer.
Bowden heard his footsteps and came out from his office behind the counter. “Yes, Colonel?”
“I understand a young lady, a Miss Duncannon, was due to arrive here some weeks ago?”
Bowden smiled brightly. “Yes, indeed, sir. I’d forgotten—she asked after you, too.”
“Indeed. I take it she’s left and headed north?”
“Oh, no, sir. Her ship was delayed, too. She didn’t get in until last week. Quite relieved, she was, to learn you’d been delayed, too. She’s still here, waiting on your arrival.”
“Ah. I see.” Del suppressed a grimace and started makingplans. “Perhaps if you could send word to her room that I’ve arrived, and would appreciate a moment of her time?”
Bowden shook his head. “No use at present—she’s out, and she’s taken her maid with her. But I can tell her as soon as she comes in.”
Del nodded. “Thank you.” He hesitated, then asked, “Is there a private parlor I might hire?” Somewhere where he and his unexpected burden could discuss her onward journey.
“I’m sorry, sir, but all our parlors are presently taken.” Bowden paused, then said, “But it’s Miss Duncannon herself as has the front parlor—perhaps, seeing she’s waiting to see you, you might wait for her in there?”
“An excellent notion,” Del responded dryly. “And I’ll need to hire a carriage.”
But again Bowden shook his head. “I’d like to oblige, Colonel, but this close to Christmas all our carriages are spoken for. Miss Duncannon herself took the last of our post chaises.”
“Fortuitous,” Del murmured. “I was wanting the carriage for her.”
“Well, then.” Bowden grinned. “All’s well.”
“Indeed.” Del pointed to the room to the right of the foyer. “The front parlor?”
“Aye, sir. Go right in.”
Del did, shutting the door behind him.
With white plaster walls and heavy timber beams crossing the ceiling, the parlor was neither overlarge nor cramped, and boasted one of the wide bow windows looking out on the street. The furniture was heavy, but comfortable, the pair of chintz-covered armchairs well-supplied with plump cushions. A highly polished round table with four chairs stood in the middle of the room, a large lamp at its center, while a crackling fire sparked and flared in the grate, throwing welcome heat into the room.
Gravitating toward the hearth, Del noticed the three watercolors above the mantelpiece. They were landscapes depicting green pastures and meadows, lush fields andrichly canopied trees beneath pastel blue skies with fluffy white clouds. The one in the middle, of rolling heathland, a vibrant patchwork of greens, caught his eye. He hadn’t laid eyes on such landscapes for seven long years; it seemed odd to gain his first sense of home via pictures on a wall.
Glancing down, he drew out the letter from his aunts; standing before the fire, he scanned it anew, searching for some insight into why the devil they’d thought to saddle him with the duty of escorting a young gentlewoman, daughter of a neighboring landowner, home to Humberside.
His best guess was that his doting aunts had some idea of playing matchmaker.
They were going to be disappointed. There was no place for a young lady in his train, not while he was a decoy for the Black Cobra.
He’d been disappointed when he’d opened the scroll he’d selected and discovered he hadn’t picked the original letter. Nevertheless, as Wolverstone had made clear, the missions of the three decoys would be
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