Miss Foxworth's Fate Read Free

follow Matcham?”
    Taking leave of their hostess, Abby and Eugenia dutifully marched behind the stout butler and found themselves seated in a large room, which might well function as a ballroom on other, more formal, occasions.
    Tonight, however, lines of chairs had been assembled, much as for a musicale, but there were no instruments in sight, just a raised dais.
    They allowed Matcham to seat them front and center, and chatted quietly as the rest of the room filled up with whispering, laughing, talking guests.
    “I don’t think I‘ve ever seen Sir Philip Ashton in town,” whispered Eugenia to Abby, under cover of the general conversation. “But I’m almost positive he’s single.”
    Once more, Abby sighed, praying for patience, and she returned some inoffensive comment. Hopefully this wouldn’t be one more name added to her aunt’s long list of potential husbands for her.
    At last the doors were closed and a servant went around extinguishing many of the candles, leaving only those that illuminated the dais.
    Abby felt a shiver up her spine as the room was plunged into mysterious shadows.
    Then a man stepped from those shadows and mounted the dais.
    He was uncommonly tall, dressed well but in a modest style, had overlong dark hair tied back behind his neck, and what appeared to be a fine pair of legs beneath smart evening breeches.
    Abby looked up from her assessment of him, and met his eyes.
    Her world stopped dead.
     

 
     
    Chapter 2
     
    The tall man was cursing fluidly at his third attempt to tie his cravat in some sort of acceptable style.
    “Here, lad, let me do that for you.” The informal comment came from the graying valet folding clothes neatly in the suite in the Greenhough’s town house that was presently being occupied by Sir Philip Ashton.
    Philip surrendered the chore with relief. “What the hell would I do without you, Fred?” he grinned.
    “Like as not you’d have found yourself a wife to take care of this for you,” answered the man wryly.
    “Oh no, not you too.” Philip tipped his head back as Fred’s nimble fingers folded, tweaked and tugged on the cravat. “I’ve had quite enough of that from Rachel, thank you very much.”
    “And Lady Rachel’s in the right of it. You know very well it’s time you thought about settling down.”
    Philip snorted and straightened himself, glancing in the mirror at the now-respectably tied fabric beneath his chin. “We’ve been through this ad nauseum , Fred. I am settled. I am content. I have Sally in the village to take care of any...needs I may have...”
    “Yes. And damn near ruined her for the rest of the lads, you have. All that nonsense about having a woman for pleasure, and then making sure she gets her jollies out of it, too.”
    “Look, I did try to explain it all to them. Don’t you remember the time I spent trying to tell those dimwits that there was more to a woman’s body than just her...just her...”
    “Her female bits? Yes, lad. And damned embarrassing it was, too. I couldn’t nip down for a pint for two weeks after that. Shocked the hair clean off half of them, you did.”
    Philip frowned. “But it was only fair, Fred. And it adds to one’s own pleasure too, you know.”
    “I’ll take your word for it. And you haven’t even been down to Sally’s since I don’t remember when. No, it’s time for you to find the real thing, Sir Philip.”
    When Fred assumed his sternest face, Philip knew it was time to throw in the towel and admit himself defeated. The problem with having a valet who’d known him since he was three was that there was no chance at all of winning an argument with him.
    “Look,” said Fred, obviously taking pity on him. “Go downstairs, put on your show with your mezzy-whatsit, do the pretty with the guests, and then we can go home. Lady Rachel’s happy, you’re on your way out of town, and your laboratory is still, hopefully, intact and spared a visit from your sister.”
    Philip sighed.
    He