David Lord of Honor (The Lonely Lords) Read Free

might have some shelter from the elements?” He had no particular matter to discuss with her, but the wind was bitter, and she’d been out shopping without even a maid to attend her on a day when most people would be snuggled up to a blazing hearth, a steaming pot of tea at hand.
    And Thomas had been worried about her.
    “The gloves can wait. We could return to my house, if you like.” She ducked her eyes to the left at that offer, suggesting she’d forced herself to make it.
    David did not want to return to the modest dwelling where, on the occasion of his brother-in-law’s death, he’d paid a call on her months ago.
    “I have a property only a few blocks distant that’s not in use at present. If you’d allow it, I could look in on my staff and get a bite to eat. I’m realizing, as I stand here, that I’ve skipped my luncheon.” For no discernible reason, or possibly to enhance his credibility with a bit of truth, he added, “I become irritable when peckish.”
    Particularly when he’d also foregone most of his breakfast for the entertainment of his man of business.
    The lady treated him to a considering pause, the duration of three lazy snowflakes, before she let David escort her the several blocks to their destination.
    “This is lovely,” she said, looking around the entrance hall of a dwelling David had meant to rent out but hadn’t got around to.
    “I have a number of rentals throughout the city, this being one. Let me take your cloak, as it appears I’m short of staff.”
    When he raised his hands to undo the frogs at her throat, she flinched, a reaction any brothel owner—much less a fellow trained as a physician—recognized. David dropped his hands and stepped back.
    Skittish. Of course she was skittish. They were alone, David had a good five stone of weight on her, and half a foot of height, at least. “My apologies. I did not mean to presume.”
    “I’m just…” She fumbled the fastenings free, her hands shaking. “I was surprised, my lord, nothing more.”
    He deposited her cloak and his greatcoat on hooks in the hallway and offered her his arm. The notion that she might be anticipating a forcible sampling of her charms flitted through his mind like another of those cold, bone-penetrating gusts of wind.
    “We’ll summon reinforcements from below stairs,” David suggested. “And I hope you will join me in some luncheon, though it’s late for that. I won’t last until tea if I don’t eat something.”
    She dropped her hand from his arm when they gained the parlor. “You must accommodate yourself, my lord.”
    Mrs. Banks wasn’t reassured by small talk—smart woman.
    “I’m surprised you remember me,” David said, lighting candles about the room with a taper from the fireplace. “If you give the bellpull a yank, we’ll no doubt break up a rousing game of whist in the servants’ parlor.”
    She tugged on the bellpull but did not take a seat. “You provided me funds upon your brother-in-law’s death without asking anything in return. Why shouldn’t I remember you?” She was too polite to mention his mismatched eyes, and she sounded unhappy with him for his generosity.
    Or perhaps she was unhappy with herself for accepting it.
    David had been unhappy too, because what sum, however great, could compensate a woman for what Amery had taken from her?
    A knock on the door, followed by David’s command to enter, admitted a smiling housekeeper.
    “Lord Fairly. I thought I heard the front door.” The little dumpling of a housekeeper, apron spotless, cap tidy, beamed at him as if his arrival were her every wish come true. “Staff’s off today, but I am sure you and your guest could use a pot of tea and some victuals.”
    “Mrs. Moses.” He smiled right back, a cheerful housekeeper qualifying as one of life’s dearer blessings. “You would live in my dreams forever were you to provide some hot tea and cold food. We are famished.”
    Her smile grew brighter. “And will you