AFTER THE KISS by Karen Ranney

Author:Karen Ranney [Ranney, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0-380-81298-3
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

The journey to ecstasy is one that begins with a thought.

The Journals of Augustin X

“Peterson says he cannot spare the cook, your lordship,” Molly said, bobbing a curtsy.

“He did, did he?” Michael frowned at the young maid. His irritation, however, was not addressed at her, but at his mother’s butler.

“The countess is entertaining, your lordship, and he says that he can’t spare him. He says that since Smytheton thinks he can do everything in a household, there’s no need for him to borrow the cook.”

He raised an eyebrow and frowned at her. She bobbed another curtsy.

Evidently Peterson hadn’t understood. Between Molly and Smytheton, they did quite well normally, but Michael wanted tomorrow night’s dinner to be something special. The fact that Peterson was acting peckish annoyed him, especially since he employed the man.

“You will have to return, Molly,” he said. He finished the note he was writing and handed it to her. It was a tersely worded suggestion that Peterson find some way to accede to the request, that it had come from him, not Smytheton.

She bobbed yet another curtsy and left the room.

Entertaining again?

His mother saw nothing wrong with going through her entire quarter’s allowance in a month and then expecting him to be responsible for her subsequent bills.

Wedding an heiress was becoming imperative. A leisurely courtship would not suffice. He needed an influx of capital now. Knowledge gleaned after he had gone through this month’s expenditures. Shoes, hats, gowns, flowers, a host of odds and ends purchased in order to impress or flatter.

If he didn’t wed soon, there would be no money to pay all these bills.

But the thought of being sacrificed upon the matrimonial altar, while once acceptable, now seemed particularly repugnant.

He couldn’t, for example, conceive of being as abandoned with a wife as he had been with Margaret two days ago. Jane Hestly floated through his mind. She had pale blond hair and rather pinched looking features, thin lips, and cheeks that sagged like premature jowls. He doubted if she would care to know anything about the Journals of Augustin X. Nor could he imagine her wanting to wind a blue ribbon around him.

Margaret delighted him, and amused him, intrigued him, and incited his curiosity. More, he became someone he particularly liked in her company, as if she brought out his better nature. True, that man was unrestrained and decidedly irrational, but he’d never before felt so alive.

There were some women destined to remain in a man’s mind forever. He had the somewhat unsettling thought that Margaret was one of them.

But he couldn’t marry Margaret. He scowled down at the bills in front of him. For the first time, he was angry about his fate. Trussed up and delivered to the bride wealthy enough to purchase his title and his family lineage. A damnable future, one that stretched out almost interminably before him.

London life had acquainted Margaret with noise, an almost endless variety of sounds. As if the world visited the City and finding it to be delightful, remained there.

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