The Daring Exploits of a Runaway Heiress Read Free Page A

youth.
    “Jonathon,” his mother said in her best Duchess of Roxborough voice, which had long struck fear into the hearts of her children and husband alike. “It is all I can do to entice my children here once a week. I shall not allow you to spoil it.”
    Father gasped. “I would never—”
    “We agreed this was to be a cordial evening,” Mother continued.
    Cordial or not, dinner every Thursday at Effington House when Cam’s siblings were in London was in the nature of a command appearance. While all the Effington offspring had their own private residences, a constant source of annoyance to the duke, Mother insisted her children present themselves for dinner once a week. Legitimate reasons for absence from this ritual were accepted, but woe be it to anyone who missed more than two consecutive dinners. Nonetheless, this was the first time in more than a month that all of the duke and duchess’s children were seated at the table together.
    Father’s eyes widened in a show of feigned innocence. “I was being cordial.”
    “For the moment perhaps.” Mother’s eyes narrowed. “But I know you, Jonathon Effington. I know exactly how you think and I certainly know that look on your face.”
    “I don’t have a look on my face,” Father said under his breath, and speared a piece of perfectly cooked beef with far more vengeance than was necessary. “I don’t know what’s wrong with a father asking a son about his avocation.”
    “I believe you mean vocation, Father,” Grace said in a deceptively pleasant manner. There was nothing Grace liked better than throwing fuel on the fire. As long as it was someone else’s fire. “An avocation is a hobby, a vocation is a profession.”
    Father’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “I know—”
    “Grandmother is not joining us tonight?” Thad asked in an effort to change the course of the conversation. Cam cast him a grateful look. Thad too thought of himself as a peacemaker.
    “I’m afraid not.” Mother sighed. “She was going to retire early as she was quite done in. Some of her friends came by this afternoon and they spent a great deal of time visiting.”
    “And compiling lists of eligible matches, no doubt,” Grace said under her breath.
    “I believe all their plans and plots and schemes may well keep them young. They do have a grand time. And you, all of you”—Mother’s pointed look circled the table—“should be most grateful for their efforts. One never knows where one might find a match not only suitable but perfect.” Mother smiled at her husband. “Don’t you agree, Jonathon?”
    Father cast her a look that might well have been considered wicked if, of course, he wasn’t, well, Father . “Cupid’s arrow strikes without warning, when one least expects or desires it. And often in the most unusual manner.” His gaze lingered on his wife and true affection shone in his eyes.
    None of the Effington offspring knew the exact details of Mother and Father’s courtship save that Mother’s cousin was one of Father’s oldest friends. Cam had long suspected there was more to it than that as it was obvious theirs had been a love match and just as obvious that it still was. Father cleared his throat. “Your mother is right. The efforts of your grandmother and her cronies should not be dismissed without due consideration, even if you view those efforts as meddling and manipulative.”
    Grandmother, the dowager duchess and matriarch of the Effington family, had recently passed her ninetieth birthday. Whereas before reaching that milestone she had often said how she looked forward to joining her beloved husband, Thomas, in the next life, now she was determined to cling to this life until she reached one hundred years or had seen all her grandchildren happily wed, whichever came first. Judging by the way her daughter-in-law was enthusiastically engaged in the same pursuit, one would have thought Mother was eager to see the old lady go.
    Unfortunately, as