Twelfth Night Secrets Read Free Page A

Harriet thought he looked a little tired, his green eyes a little more faded than when she’d last seen him, and she thought she could begin to detect just the slightest stoop to those broad shoulders. Grief had most assuredly taken its toll, but the stoop also had something to do with the hours the old man spent secluded in his library, poring over the scholarly tomes that gave him so much intellectual pleasure. Nevertheless, despite these signs of aging, it was still hard to believe that Lionel was close to the end of his eighth decade.
    “Grandfather.” She took his hands, then hugged him fiercely, kissing his cheek. “The journey was good, and the children were as patient as one could ever expect them to be.”
    “And where are those hellions?” The Duke looked around with raised eyebrows.
    “Oh, they ran off to see Judd in the stables as soon as we arrived.” Harriet drew off her gloves.
    “Well, that should give me no illusions about a grandfather’s place in their priorities,” Lionel said drily.
    “Now, don’t be severe, sir,” Harriet responded, smiling. “They’ve been cooped up since dawn. It’s much better if they run off the fidgets now.”
    He gave a mock sigh. “I suppose you’re right. This house has stood through invasion, civil war, and God only knows what other upheavals, but nothing comes near to those brats when it comes to the power of destruction.”
    Harriet was about to protest when she caught a flicker in her peripheral vision and turned her head sharply to the shadows at the rear of the hall where a passage entered from the gun room. Her grandfather followed her gaze, and a smile touched his finely sculpted mouth. “Ah, Marbury, my dear fellow, come and meet my granddaughter. Harriet, this is Lord Marbury . . . sir, Lady Harriet Devere.”
    Julius stepped into the light, the retriever clinging to his heels. “An honor, ma’am. Please forgive mycountry attire. I was on my way to change my dress.” He no longer carried his gun, but his boots were muddied, and his plain woolen britches and jacket were cut comfortably for sporting pursuits. His bow, however, would have been perfectly appropriate for a Queen’s Drawing Room, and there was a pleasant easiness about his manner that she warmed to instantly.
    And just as instantly she reminded herself that this was her quarry. A suspected traitor, the man who it was believed had betrayed her brother. But Julius Forsythe didn’t know anyone suspected that, and he mustn’t. Any more than he must ever suspect her own mission at Charlbury Hall this Christmas.
    Her smile was all affability as she curtsied, saying, “Indeed, sir, think nothing of it. We are in the country, after all.” She bent smiling to the dog, extending her flat palm so the retriever could take her scent. “And who is this pretty lady?”
    “Tess, ma’am. She’s young yet but is training well.” He laid a hand on the dog’s head, and Tess lifted her head against his palm.
    Harriet straightened. “If you’ll excuse me, I must see to the unpacking and sort out the children.” She turned to the butler, who stood attentively at the foot of the stairs. “Mallow, would you send to the stablesfor Lady Grace and Lord Hesketh? I need them in the nursery.” It always felt strange to give Tom the courtesy title he had inherited from his brother, but now that Nicholas was dead, Tom was the heir to the dukedom. He would presumably grow into the role, she thought, firmly squashing any doubts on the subject with the reflection that it was very early days yet.
    “Right away, my lady.” The butler moved off in stately fashion, beckoning to a liveried footman.
    “I’ll see them in the library when they’re respectable,” the Duke declared. “Bring them to me there, Harriet . . . oh, and they may as well dine downstairs, as we’re to be informal tonight.”
    Harriet curtsied her acknowledgment, and her grandfather returned to his library.
    Lord Marbury stood