Free Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance) by Lisa Andersen Page B
Authors: Lisa Andersen
a life like that. One must always been on one’s guard, lest one ‘let something slip’ and cause a scandal. They stand around drinking wine and laughing and they have no idea what is happening just right across the Channel.”
“It must be hard, fighting in a war,” Elizabeth said.
“I used to think so,” the Duke said. “And then the fighting stopped, and I returned to my Castle, and I was forced to mingle with lords and ladies for whom a crisis constitutes having to eat apple cakes instead of lemon cakes.”
Elizabeth laughed, and then swiftly covered her mouth.
“You may laugh, if you wish,” the Duke said. There was almost a hint of warmth in his voice, but not quite. It was more like there was the potential for warmth in his voice.
Elizabeth was so used to the cramped, suffocating atmosphere of her home life that the idea that she could actually laugh aloud was strange to her. She imagined the scenario at home: Father somberly drinking and smoking before the fire, Mother knitting, the only noise coming from her the click-click-click of the needles, and then Elizabeth reads something that makes her laugh, and she laughs aloud for the two of them to hear. No doubt Father would start raving about how his daughter finds their misfortune funny, and Mother would simply retire to her bedroom.
“Laughter does not come easily to me,” she said.
“Okay,” the Duke said. “What does come easily to you, my lady?”
Elizabeth tried to think of something, but nothing was magnificent: nothing was worthy of a scene like this. But then, she decided, did she want to be the sort of woman who pretends her life is grand and adventurous when in fact it was rather dull? Did she want to be a Charlotte-type woman? “I care for the pigs and chickens,” she said. “And I read a lot. Father did not sell our books, so I still have many to choose from. There are some Greek scripts, and I have taught myself the basics. Enough to get along with some simpler texts, anyway. I love to read. I forget everything when I read. I do not feel as though I’m even in the same world when I read. The pages eat me.”
The Duke nodded. “And lots of adventures happen in these books, do they?”
“Oh, yes,” Elizabeth said. “Adventures of all sorts.”
“What about soldiers-cum-dukes wooing beautiful ladies?”
Elizabeth smiled. “I have not read that tale yet, my lord.”
The Duke placed his hand on Elizabeth’s leg. Elizabeth felt the heat from his hand move up her thigh, up, toward her private area. She knew she should bat his hand away, or tell him to move it away from her. She was not that kind of woman. But he was not trying anything else; and his hand really did feel quite nice there. They sat like that for a time, and then Elizabeth laid her hand over the Duke’s. He squeezed her leg, and together watched the course of a bird as it ducked from the clouds, into the trees, and then back up into the clouds again.
“Will you dine with me tonight, my lady?” the Duke said.
“Yes, of course,” Elizabeth replied. “It would be my pleasure.”
The Duke stood and together they walked back through the gardens. Elizabeth did not know how to feel about all of this. One side of her was ecstatic and overly happy that she was here, in the Duke’s gardens, with this captivating man. Another half of her was wary. She had never dreamt, when she was among the pigs and chickens, that she would be in the Duke’s Castle alone.
Anything could happen here, she thought, with a mixture of excitement and fear. Anything at all .
*****
That evening Elizabeth donned one of the dresses the Duke had lent her – that he had left waiting for her in the dresser – and joined him in the dining room for a dinner of duck and potato. They ate in silence for a time, and then the Duke ordered wine and drank greedily. Elizabeth, who had never had lots of wine, decided to indulge for the first time tonight. She drank down a large glass and
“It must be hard, fighting in a war,” Elizabeth said.
“I used to think so,” the Duke said. “And then the fighting stopped, and I returned to my Castle, and I was forced to mingle with lords and ladies for whom a crisis constitutes having to eat apple cakes instead of lemon cakes.”
Elizabeth laughed, and then swiftly covered her mouth.
“You may laugh, if you wish,” the Duke said. There was almost a hint of warmth in his voice, but not quite. It was more like there was the potential for warmth in his voice.
Elizabeth was so used to the cramped, suffocating atmosphere of her home life that the idea that she could actually laugh aloud was strange to her. She imagined the scenario at home: Father somberly drinking and smoking before the fire, Mother knitting, the only noise coming from her the click-click-click of the needles, and then Elizabeth reads something that makes her laugh, and she laughs aloud for the two of them to hear. No doubt Father would start raving about how his daughter finds their misfortune funny, and Mother would simply retire to her bedroom.
“Laughter does not come easily to me,” she said.
“Okay,” the Duke said. “What does come easily to you, my lady?”
Elizabeth tried to think of something, but nothing was magnificent: nothing was worthy of a scene like this. But then, she decided, did she want to be the sort of woman who pretends her life is grand and adventurous when in fact it was rather dull? Did she want to be a Charlotte-type woman? “I care for the pigs and chickens,” she said. “And I read a lot. Father did not sell our books, so I still have many to choose from. There are some Greek scripts, and I have taught myself the basics. Enough to get along with some simpler texts, anyway. I love to read. I forget everything when I read. I do not feel as though I’m even in the same world when I read. The pages eat me.”
The Duke nodded. “And lots of adventures happen in these books, do they?”
“Oh, yes,” Elizabeth said. “Adventures of all sorts.”
“What about soldiers-cum-dukes wooing beautiful ladies?”
Elizabeth smiled. “I have not read that tale yet, my lord.”
The Duke placed his hand on Elizabeth’s leg. Elizabeth felt the heat from his hand move up her thigh, up, toward her private area. She knew she should bat his hand away, or tell him to move it away from her. She was not that kind of woman. But he was not trying anything else; and his hand really did feel quite nice there. They sat like that for a time, and then Elizabeth laid her hand over the Duke’s. He squeezed her leg, and together watched the course of a bird as it ducked from the clouds, into the trees, and then back up into the clouds again.
“Will you dine with me tonight, my lady?” the Duke said.
“Yes, of course,” Elizabeth replied. “It would be my pleasure.”
The Duke stood and together they walked back through the gardens. Elizabeth did not know how to feel about all of this. One side of her was ecstatic and overly happy that she was here, in the Duke’s gardens, with this captivating man. Another half of her was wary. She had never dreamt, when she was among the pigs and chickens, that she would be in the Duke’s Castle alone.
Anything could happen here, she thought, with a mixture of excitement and fear. Anything at all .
*****
That evening Elizabeth donned one of the dresses the Duke had lent her – that he had left waiting for her in the dresser – and joined him in the dining room for a dinner of duck and potato. They ate in silence for a time, and then the Duke ordered wine and drank greedily. Elizabeth, who had never had lots of wine, decided to indulge for the first time tonight. She drank down a large glass and
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