Celeste Bradley - [Heiress Brides 03] Read Free Page B

spending such long hours unchaperoned with the likes of the notorious Lord Graham Cavendish, Sophie would have tartly retorted—if the speaker werefemale, of course; if it were a man, she would probably freeze in terror, then spasmodically break something!—that Graham, being Lady Tessa’s own cousin, was practically family. Therefore such a thought was ridiculous and the thinker ought to be ashamed, etc.
    It was a well-rehearsed speech and went on at length, but since no one in the world gave a fig about the virtue of one tall, plain girl with no expectations other than scholarly spinsterhood, Sophie had never had the opportunity to use it.
    After all, she had no real future to lose and Graham, who took nothing and no one seriously, including Lilah, thank the gods, risked nothing by it either. Their clandestine friendship harmed no one and benefited them both greatly.
    For one brief Season Sophie was determined to do precisely as she pleased—and she pleased to explore museums and libraries and play with Graham.
    Matters might be different if she were serious in her search for a husband or if Graham would ever wish to marry and have an heir.
    Fortunately, there was no reason why he should when his brothers intended to procreate often and well, as soon as they had slain one last elephant, bagged one final rhinoceros, taken down one more tiger—well, anyway, there was simply no reason why things could not go on forever precisely as they were.
    AFTER LEAVING SOPHIE to her early bedtime in the house on Primrose Street, Lord Graham Cavendishstrode whistling into Eden House, the London home of the Duke of Edencourt.
    The Edencourt name was old and venerable and its estate vast and once beautiful, but the past few generations had failed to hold up their end of good taste and self-restraint. Now the name of Edencourt was equated with loud, boorish behavior and a predisposition for dying at the hands of liquor or firearms—sometimes both.
    The house itself never changed, unless it was to gain a few more unfortunate trophies on its already cluttered walls, so Graham had long since stopped noticing the shabby conditions and the furnishings that had been elegant generations ago but now suffered mightily from the rough usage of its current residents.
    The marble floors were scuffed beyond polishing and the dark wood panels and trim were gouged by things thrown or dragged against their damaged finish. The carpets were worn thin by heavy boots and the sofas were sprung by years of supporting great lounging louts who rarely bothered to sit up straight.
    Graham, blinded by years of familiarity, merely came and went from the house and tried not to run into his brothers. Tonight, if he changed quickly enough, he could be at the tables within an hour. Still, as was his habit, he stopped in the entrance hall and listened for a long moment.
    He heard no roaring laughter. He smelled no foul clouds of tobacco. He felt no thudding of wrestling bodies breaking the remaining furnishings into kindling.
    No, the house was entirely empty except for theskeletal staff of servants still employed. Ah yes, his family was still far, far away.
    Thank God.
    His father’s butler came to take Graham’s hat and gloves. Graham grinned at him. “The chest beaters are still absent, eh, Nichols?”
    After forty years of service, Nichols was the duke’s man, always and forever. His usual haughty expression soured further at Graham’s impious words.
    “Good evening, Lord Graham. His Grace and your elder brothers have not sent word as to their return from their hunt in Africa. However, there is a Mr. Abbott awaiting you in His Grace’s study.”
    Graham blinked. “For me? Whatever for?”
    “Indeed, my lord.” Nichols looked as though he could not begin to imagine why anyone would want to speak to Graham. Ever. Graham didn’t blame him for it, for the servant was only aping the attitude of the master. His own father hadn’t said more than a dozen words to