Duke of Scandal (Moonlight Square, Book 1) Read Free Page B

matter-of-factly.
    “Your Grace.” Her cheeks turned pink as she dropped a slight curtsy.
    “Don’t you dare stand on ceremony with me,” he warned as he joined them in the entrance hall. He propped his hands on his waist and pretended not to know she had been upset a moment ago, curious to hear what she had to say for herself, and rather determined to cheer her up, in any case. “What are you doing here, girl?”
    Her virginal gaze skimmed over him with searing awareness, but she quirked a brow and pointed at his bare feet.
    He shrugged. “I’m starting a new fashion.”
    “Ah.”
    “So what’s afoot?” he jested.
    She gave him a droll look at his pun. The maid behind her giggled, then coughed self-consciously.
    Before answering his question, Felicity nodded at the older lady beside her. “Your Grace, you remember Mrs. Brown, my chaperone?”
    “Ma’am.” Jason bowed to her.
    The portly matron nodded in answer, but pursed her lips and eyed him with the sort of scathing review he was well accustomed to from young ladies’ chaperones. He offered the maid a brief, cordial smile, as well.
    Felicity studied him with measured wariness. “I’ve been trying to find out for the past week, Jason, if there is any way to get a message to my brother,” she said, a flicker of annoyance passing behind her eyes. “Did you not get my letters asking as much?”
    “Letters?” He turned to his secretary, instantly simulating fury. “Richardson, why was I not informed of this?”
    Actually, his staff had politely murmured something last night about a pile of mail waiting for him on his desk, but after a week’s absence, that was to be expected for a man of his consequence.
    Jason had been in no mood to deal with it upon walking in the door after two days on the road, penned up in his coach. He had figured he would simply go through each item in the morning.
    But it seemed he and Felicity were suffering once again from their age-old case of bad timing.
    Richardson stammered, well aware it was his job to take the blame from time to time for things that weren’t necessarily his fault. “My humblest apologies, Your Grace. I-I was waiting until you returned from the country to bring the letters to your attention.”
    “Oh—” Felicity said abruptly. “I did not realize you were away.” She furrowed her brow, looking slightly chastened after her obvious annoyance at him.
    “Yes, well, apparently we had a fire at Netherford Hall,” Jason explained. “A few of the peasant cottages and outbuildings burned down. But that is no excuse! Now, look here,” he scolded his man of affairs, with great effect. “Miss Carvel is one of my oldest and dearest friends—”
    “I am?” she muttered under her breath.
    “Not to mention the sister of the man leading the expedition I am sponsoring! When someone this important has a message for me, Richardson, I expect to be informed of it at once, do you understand?” he fairly bellowed, then turned to her. “Shall I sack him for you?”
    “What? No, no! It’s all right,” she hastily assured both him and his sweating secretary. “All I wanted was to ask you if it’s possible to send a message to Peter, wherever he is, then I’ll be on my way. Please, there’s no need to go sacking anybody, I implore you.”
    “Very well, if you’re sure.”
    “Was anyone from the castle hurt?” she ventured, since, after all, she had grown up on the smaller estate adjoining his parklands.
    “No, thankfully. A few sheep got their wool singed, is all, and several cottages will need to be rebuilt. Other than that, the people were mostly scared, and I felt it best for me to put in an appearance there. But I’m back now, and it’s all sorted. So, ah, what is the message you wanted to send to Pete? The news of your aunt’s passing, I presume?”
    Her smoky gaze locked on to his uncertainly; he read her general wariness of him there, and it pained him. “Actually,” she said, “there’s