Bedding Lord Ned Read Free Page B

pulled off his gloves. He’d be delighted if a blizzard kept everyone away.
    Why Mama needed to turn their birthday into such a bloody event was beyond him. Wasn’t it enough of a curse that the Valentines had all been born on Valentine’s Day? And while Mama couldn’t do much about her given name—her papa, a man of the cloth, no less, had saddled her with Venus—she didn’t have to embrace the ton ’s ridiculous nickname for her. But no, the Duchess of Love she was, hostess of monthly Love Balls during the Season and author of a damn scandal sheet, Venus’s Love Notes . The family was a blasted joke, dredged up whenever things got dull in the gentlemen’s clubs.
    There was a reason he rarely went to Town.
    â€œOh, never fear, my lord,” Dalton said in a disgustingly cheerful tone. “A twinge of rheumatism and a threat of snow aren’t enough to keep my Mrs. Dalton down. No, indeed. She was up with the larks, bustling about and seeing that all is in readiness.”
    Damn it all, Ned’s head was beginning to pound in earnest. He’d go upstairs directly and take some of the powders his man, Breen, had packed before he’d rushed off to attend his ailing mother in Bath.
    â€œNed!”
    Oh, God, speaking of mothers ... He looked up to see his mama at the top of the stairs, her smile almost blinding. She would want to talk. He did not feel like chatting when he had a headache coming on. “Hallo, Mama.”
    She hurried down the steps and threw her arms around him so enthusiastically he was forced to take a step back to save his balance. “Ned! I’m so glad you got here safely.”
    He returned her hug, not that he had any choice. Did she have to be so blasted demonstrative? “Of course I got here safely. Linden Hall is not so far away.”
    â€œNo, but I am sure it is going to snow, and the roads will be treacherous.” She studied his face. “It is so good to see you.”
    â€œYou just saw me at Twelfth Night.” He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to Dalton. “Less than a month ago. I’ve not changed.”
    She continued to examine him, a small frown forming between her brows. He forced himself not to look away. Was she searching for the boy he’d been? She must know that part of him had died with Cicely.
    â€œYou need to smile more,” she said at last, linking her arm through his.
    He grunted. He’d nothing to smile about.
    â€œWill you have one of the footmen bring Lord Edward’s things up to his room, Mr. Dalton?” Mama asked.
    â€œOf course, your grace.”
    â€œMama ...” Ned stopped Dalton with a look. He’d prefer to take his things up himself.
    â€œI’d offer you tea”—Mama started to lead him away from the entry—“but I’m sure you’d rather have brandy.”
    â€œMama ...” The ache had spread across his forehead. Brandy was not what he needed at the moment.
    â€œYour father’s out visiting tenants—some problem with a drainage ditch, I believe. Ash would have gone, but Greycliffe insisted he needed to attend to the matter himself.” Mama snorted. “He wanted to avoid the guests as long as possible, of course. They should be arriving shortly, especially if the weather is turning bad. The only person here so far is Ellie Bowman, though being a neighbor and almost family, she hardly counts.” Mama smiled broadly as if something amused her. “Ash is hiding in his study.”
    â€œMama.” Ned dug in his heels. “Thank you, but I wish to go up to my room now.”
    She stopped and looked at him again. Her expression of mild annoyance turned quickly to concern. “Oh, you have one of your headaches, don’t you?”
    Zeus, he hated to be fussed over. “I’m sure I’ll be better shortly.” He held out his hand for his portmanteau, and Dalton gave it to him. The butler had