The Silent Love Read Free Page B

speak to, I am certain. Lady Hannah is my ward, of course, and I would be privy to anything to do with her... "
     "Ah, I see. Well, as it happens, she is not your ward. She is a ward of the crown and I have received permission of our exalted majesty to speak with her. Can you," he gave the man a quelling glance and spoke slowly, with emphasis, "tell me where I might find her?"
    The earl whispered to the footman that stood at his shoulder, then turned his beady, feral eyes back to the solicitor. "She will join you in the drawing room. We will join you shortly."
     "That will not be necessary. My business with Lady Hannah could not concern you, I am sure." Satisfied he had given the proper set down, he followed the footman up the steps and into a small, neglected foyer.
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    Hannah was summoned to the drawing room by a footman she had never seen, the manner of his personage quite insolent as he instructed her to get herself to the drawing room, for the earl and his guest would speak with her immediately.
    She rose from her chair at the kitchen table and smoothed her gown, then lifted her hands to tuck back the wisp of hair that had come loose from her coiffure. She did not step forward immediately, however, but gazed nervously at the servant, her eyes apprehensive.
     "What guests, good fellow? I knew not that the earl had arrived." Her soft voice and timid manner undid the footman—who suddenly took pity on the young mistress—and he stood at attention, not meeting her eyes but changing his tone to one of respect.
     "There is a gentleman to see you, Milady. He has come from the Marquis of Darlington. If you will just go along to the drawing room." He then bowed his way out the door, obsequious deference oozing from his very pores, and led her down the short hall.
    She lifted her skirts and followed, her heart in her throat, fear coursing through her at a rapid pace. She wondered, what manner of intrigue this could be and barely glanced at her cousin who had come forward to greet her. "I must see my guest Baits. I shall turn over the household once I have done."
    She had the satisfaction of seeing the man's mouth agape as he stepped aside and allowed her to sweep through the door, closing it behind her. She could not bring herself to call him Milord —for he was not the stuff of an earldom and his overweening manner was almost comical.
    Turning into the room she gave a small smile of welcome, but her eyes, behind their wire spectacles, were shy and her hand fidgeted with the fringe of lace at her throat. "Good morrow, sir. I am Lady Hannah DeLacey, at your disposal."
    Mr. Maguire looked the girl up and down, and smiled in satisfaction at what he saw. She was clean, tidy and small. She looked to be quite nervous, but she held herself poised, and managed to appear serene—though it was obvious to his keen eyes that she was anything but calm.
     "Good morrow Lady Hannah." He stepped forward and assisted her to a chair, then asked permission to be seated himself, and did so at her nod.
    "I have come with a proposition for you," he said while opening the portfolio on his lap. Proceeding to explain his mission, and with much delicacy, he prompted her, hoping to have this done and be gone as quickly as possible.
     "Are you familiar with the Marquis?" At the shake of her head, he went on to explain the four-hundred-year tradition of the title, and how, sadly, it would soon be defunct, if an heir were not produced. "So you see, Milady," he gave her due homage, "I have been instructed to ask for your hand in marriage on behalf of the Marquis of Darlington."
     "My hand in marriage to the Mar... " she was so astounded that she could not speak further, and she rose from her chair and went to the window, looking out at the multitude of luggage and boxes standing on the drive. "I cannot think, sir. It is... oversetting, to be sure."
     "Well, of course there are... conditions of which you must be appraised and perhaps