Free Along Came a Duke by Elizabeth Boyle

table. “Fleeing from a decent meal on the off chance your maiden aunt rises from her bed?”
    Roxley’s jaw worked back and forth. “Hardly so. If anything, I think I am taking a cold.” He sneezed for good measure, but it was hardly convincing evidence.
    Certainly not for Preston. “Roxley, this is ridiculous. She’s naught but a spinster, and hardly leading a barbarian horde. Sit and eat.”
    The earl hardly appeared chastened or insulted. “Shall I tell Hen what you were doing today gamboling about the countryside? I do recall we had to rise before daylight to escape her notice.”
    Tabitha had no idea who this mysterious “Hen” might be, but the lady had the power to cow even the indomitable Preston. The man’s brow furrowed darkly and he sank back into his seat. He waved off the earl. “Then scurry off and hide from Lady Essex, but leave Hen out of this. Oh, and I shan’t forgive you for abandoning me.”
    â€œOf course you will,” the earl said. “I am currently your only friend.” Then taking Tabitha’s hands and squeezing them, he continued. “And thank you, dear Miss Timmons, for keeping Preston company for me. He’ll be in an ill humor tomorrow if you don’t stay, while I will be forever in your debt.”
    Tabitha tugged her hands free before she found herself bound by some unspoken promise, even as her gaze flew about the private, intimate chamber. Just her and Preston? Alone? Dining? Vow or not . . .
    She caught hold of Roxley, anchoring him in the room. “My lord, it wouldn’t be proper! I am a respectable lady. The daughter of a vicar.”
    â€œThere you have it,” Preston pointed out. “You are leaving a lamb to be devoured by the Lion of Harley Street. You’ll be held responsible.”
    This threat glanced right off Roxley. “You should know by now, I’m never held accountable, Preston.”
    Tabitha glanced from one man to the other. “I will not stay here alone with this . . . this . . .” Her finger wagged toward Preston, who had the temerity to appear affronted.
    â€œGood heavens, I have no intention of ruining you, Miss Timmons.”
    â€œHe’s quite tame once you get to know him,” Roxley assured her.
    As if one could truly ever call a lion tame. Tabitha didn’t trust the man in the least.
    â€œI quite simply deplore eating alone,” Preston declared as he sniffed the wine in the decanter. Apparently it met his discerning taste, for he poured himself a glass.
    â€œThat is hardly my concern,” Tabitha said, even as the smell of roast curled around her nose, leaving her stomach rumbling with an unladylike churn. Or perhaps it was his adamant statement that she was completely safe in his company that had her unnerved.
    Whatever was wrong with her that he wouldn’t count her in what she suspected was his long list of conquests?
    Tabitha shook off that thought, because she certainly didn’t want to be one of his conquests. Or any man’s, for that matter.
    She was intended for a respectable gentleman worthy of her unblemished virtue. If this wretched Preston didn’t want her, that was most excellent news.
    At least it should be.
    â€œMiss Timmons, you are quite safe with Preston. He has given his word. Besides, it looks to be an excellent supper, and I have to imagine having traveled all day with my aunt, you are famished.”
    She pressed her lips together, for he had her there. But to dine with Preston? Alone?
    â€œWhy, it would be ruinous,” she told the earl. At least it should be. Then she made the mistake of taking another glance at what remained of the Yorkshire pudding and felt her resolve crumbling.
    Just like the crust would when she stuck it with a fork . . .
    Meanwhile, Roxley had managed to work his way to the door in a quiet effort to take his leave, when he paused and added,