Free Secrets and Sensibilities: A Regency Romance Mystery (The Lady Emily Capers Book 1) by Regina Scott Page A

it difficult to focus for much of the afternoon.
He’d stolen a kiss, but it had been his own heart that had threatened to be
lost. How could he feel so tender, so hopeful about a woman he’d known less
than two days? Perhaps all that time in the darkness of the secret passages had
addled his wits.
    He was careful to send Hannah back to her own room while he
retired to his so that they would appear from opposite wings for the nuncheon
he typically ate in the early afternoon. He hadn’t expected to find his other
guests waiting for him, gazes accusatory.
    “We thought you were going to join us on our ride, my lord,”
Priscilla said as he took his seat at the table.
    Her aunt narrowed her eyes as if she had not realized he had
been neglecting his duty, and despite his best efforts, his gaze was drawn to
Hannah near the end of the table. Her smile looked particularly wobbly, and her
cheeks were beginning to darken. He could only hope Lady Brentfield had not
noticed.
    “Why don’t you join me for a tour of the back gardens this
afternoon?” he offered, piling the cheese and meat onto a hunk of bread and
ignoring the pointed way Lady Brentfield brandished her fork.
    “Another tour?” Daphne grumbled.
    Priscilla jerked as if something had struck her under the
table, and she glared at her aunt across from her.
    “Priscilla, you mustn’t deprive yourself of this treat,”
Lady Brentfield said, while Priscilla wiggled in her seat. “You’ve always
adored walking about the estate. Perhaps you’ve finally found someone else who
loves it as well.”
    “Do you walk much when you’re at school, Miss Tate?” David
politely inquired.
    “Whenever possible,” Priscilla dutifully assured him. Hannah
was frowning from her place at the foot of the long table as if she had proof
otherwise, but Priscilla was batting her lashes to effect. “It is so lovely to
feel the cool breezes across one’s skin.”
    She’d no doubt meant the comment to be titillating, but he
had no interest in her stratagems. Once more, he looked to Hannah. “And do you
take walks too, Miss Alexander?”
    “When I have pleasant company,” she said with a smile. “Miss
Pritchett, the literature teacher, often goes out with me. Otherwise, my duties
prevent much exercise.”
    “Always dutiful, that’s our Miss Alexander,” Lady Brentfield
said, voice as hard as her look. “You needn’t feel bound here, my dear. Walk as
much as you like, all the way to the edge of the estate.”
    “I don’t think she need go that far,” David said with a
smile. “She could start by joining us this afternoon. I promise you I’m better
at pointing out plants than portraits.”
    Hannah shared his smile.
    He thought steam might pour from Lady Brentfield’s ears by
the way she stabbed her fork into her beef. As soon as lunch was over, she
seized Hannah’s arm and dragged her off, claiming to be rethinking the need to
be painted.
    David resigned himself to a dull afternoon leading the young
ladies through the greenery.
    Dinner wasn’t much better. Every time he tried to draw
Hannah into the conversation, Lady Brentfield deflected him with some comment
about her niece. Priscilla must have realized her aunt’s gambit wasn’t work,
for by the time the fruit trifle was served, the girl’s eyes were stormy, and
David wondered whether he’d see a temper tantrum before the night was out.
    But Lady Brentfield wasn’t through. When David retired with
the ladies to the blue room after dinner, she stationed her niece at the piano
and set her to playing an American tune that he could not fail to appreciate.
The girl was talented. He found himself taking a seat as close to the
instrument as possible just to watch the passion of her playing. As if she knew
she had him, she moved on to a more difficult piece, her golden hair glinting
in the candlelight as her fingers flew over the keys. Her playing was flawless,
and his applause was genuine and enthusiastic when she