Free Jacquie D'Alessandro by Loveand the Single Heiress Page B

of his adventures with your uncle Philip.”
    Spencer’s smile widened. “Excellent. I want to hear how you outsmarted the brigands who locked you in the dungeon. I couldn’t pry the story from Uncle Philip.”
    Lady Catherine raised her brows. “Brigands? Dungeon? I’ve not heard of this. I thought you and Philip spent your time unearthing artifacts.”
    “We did,” Andrew assured her. “However, as your brother possessed an uncanny penchant for landing in scrapes, I was forced to perform several rescues.”
    Mischief gleamed in her eyes. “I see. And you, Mr. Stanton—did you never find yourself in need of rescuing?”
    Andrew did his best to look innocent and pointed to the center of his chest. “ Me? I, who epitomizes the model of decorum—?”
    “There was that time Uncle Philip helped you escape those machete-wielding cutthroats,” Spencer broke in, his voice ringing with animation. “Fought them off using nothing but his cane and quick wits. They were after you because you’d kissed the one blackguard’s daughter.”
    “A great exaggeration,” Andrew said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Your uncle Philip is notorious for hyperbole.”
    Lady Catherine’s lips twitched. “Indeed? Then what is the true story, Mr. Stanton? Did you not kiss the blackguard’s daughter?”
    Damn. How did every conversation with her of late veer down these disastrous paths? “It was more like a friendly good-bye peck. Completely innocent.” No need to mention that the two hours prior to that friendly, good-bye peck were anything but innocent. “Her father unfortunately objected—rather strenuously, I’m afraid.” He shrugged and smiled. “Just when it appeared I was about to become a human pincushion, a stranger strode into the fray, bold as you please, brandishing his cane and shouting out in some foreign language. In truth, I thought he was insane, but he quite saved the day. Turned out to be our very own Philip, and we’ve been friends since that day.”
    “What on earth did he say to them?” Lady Catherine asked.
    “I don’t know. He refused to tell me, claiming it was his little secret. To this day I do not know.”
    “Which means he must have said something absolutely heinous about you,” Spencer said with a grin.
    “No doubt,” Andrew agreed, laughing.
    “Well, Spencer and I shall look forward to hearing more about your travels during your stay, Mr. Stanton. Shall we get you settled?” She held out her uninjured arm to Spencer. They started up the walkway, and Andrew fell in behind them. He noted how firm she kept her arm, enabling her to bear a great deal of Spencer’s weight as he limped down the path. Admiration for her—for both of them—hit him. He knew the emotional burdens she bore, yet she did so with humor and dignity, her love for her son shining like a warm glow of sunshine. And Spencer, in spite of the physical difficulties he faced, was obviously an amiable and intelligent young man who openly returned his mother’s affection. Most certainly a lad any man would be proud to call his son. Andrew’s hands clenched thinking of the boy’s father rejecting him so cruelly.
    They passed over the threshold, stepping into a spacious, parquet-floored foyer. A round mahogany table stood in the middle of the floor, its shiny surface bearing an enormous arrangement of fresh-cut flowers set in a porcelain vase. The bloom’s fragrance filled the air, combined with the pleasant scent of beeswax. Peering beyond the foyer, he noted the wide, curved staircase leading upward, and corridors fanning out to the left and right. Several long tables decorated the corridors, all adorned with vases filled with cut flowers.
    A formally attired, slightly built butler stood by the door like a sentinel, his spectacles riding low on his beaklike nose.
    “Welcome home, Lady Catherine,” the butler said in a voice far too deep and sonorous to come out of a man of such slight proportions. Indeed, it