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Authors: L. L. Muir

Tags: #Romance, #Historical

Lord Fool to the Rescue (9 page)

BOOK: Lord Fool to the Rescue
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North
couldn

t
bring
himself
to
prod
the
Viscount
further.
The
poor
man
had
asked
his
three
closest
friends
to
meet
that
morning
to
find
a
solution
to
his
newest
problem—as
fresh
as
the
morning
paper.
They
really
should
get
to
the
business
of
helping
the
chap.

Harcourt
was
in
no
such
hurry.

“Stanley, you’re trying our patience. Spit out the confession now or I don’t see us making much of an attempt to save your sorry hide.”

Stanley flushed from his pinned cravat to the roots of his transparent-like hair. The color hardly became him.

“I set Ursula aside yesterday.”


You
what?

Three
baritones
in
unison
sounded
almost
rehearsed.

North
shook
his
head.

I

m
sorry,
old
boy.
You
did
what?

“He set her aside.”

North
turned
to
Monty.

He
set
her
aside.

“Yes, blast you. I set her aside.”

Monty
closed
the
book
and
set
Shakespeare
on
the
overstuffed
arm.

Pardon
my
slow
wit,
but
just
how
does
one
put
an
Ursula
aside?

Monty
was
right.
Stanley
and
his
hair
had
had
the
pick
of
women
since
they
were
all
in
knee
breeches
together.
Now
he
had
the
pick
of
all
mistresses
and
he

d
chosen
very
well.
It
was
quite
possible
Stan,
old
pal,
was
the
first
man
to
actually
end
an
affair
with
the
woman.
Ursula
did
the
shopping
for
a
new
lover.
Ursula
let
that
lover
know
when
he
was
no
longer
welcome.
But
Stanley
Winters,
Viscount
Forsgreen,
had
set
her
aside
.


I
suppose
he
picked
her
up
by
the
shoulders,
turned,
and
set
her
down
again.

Harcourt
demonstrated
with
an
invisible
model,
then
dusted
his
hands.

Out
of
his
way,
presumably.
Is
that
accurate,
Stanley?

Stanley’s blush looked to be seeping into his actual hair.

“I let her go.”


Aah.
Like
fishing,
then?
You
took
the
hook
from
her
mouth,
so
to
speak,
and
put
her
back
in
the
water.

North
couldn

t
help
but
laugh
at
Harcourt

s
miming
skills.


Can
she
swim,
do
you
suppose?

Monty
was
ever
concerned
with
details.
In
exact
opposition
to
his
given
name,
he
was
obsessed
with
remaining
sober
and
somber.
But
no
longer.
He
dissolved
into
laughter
at
his
own
jest,
as
did
they
all.

Stanley
stood
straighter,
if
possible.

You
know
perfectly
well
what
I
mean.
I
ended
our
affair.
I
told
her
she
was
free
to
do
as
she
pleases.

North
nodded
and
composed
himself.

And
you
paid
her
a
nice
settlement,
of
course.

“Actually, she wouldn’t take it. She wasn’t at all pleased that I offered it.”

Harcourt bent over, giggling, and dove onto the davenport.


So,
you
have
slighted
Ursula.

Monty
sobered.

That
has
to
be
it!
Ursula
found
the
Scarlet
Plumiere
and
had
you
punished.
Severely
punished,
it
appears;
if
night
follows
day,
and
things
play
out
the
way
the
SP
has
predicted,
you,
my
dear
Viscount
of
F,
are
about
to
be
released
from
your
engagement.


But
that

s
why
I
let
her
go,
you
see?
It
would
be
poor
form
to
keep
one

s
mistress
while
one
is
preparing
for
marriage,
and
honeymoon,
and
fatherhood,
and
…”


And
death.

Having
solved
the
mystery,
Monty

s
nose
was
back
in
the
book.

“Yes, that too. If Irene Goodfellow breaks it off, Mother will have me fed to the fish, and even though she’s doddering, she’ll find a way to bear another son to replace me.”


It

s
unsettling
the
way
that
woman
tosses
that
threat
about,

North
admitted.

It
fairly
gives
me
nightmares
thinking
about
it.

“Well, thinking about it has put me off seeing Ursula.”


Quite
so.
Quite
so.

But
what
to
do
about
it?


It
would
be
best
to
have
her
put
down,
Stanley.
For
your
own
good,

Harcourt
mumbled
against
the
cushion.

“Who? The Scarlet Plumiere? I can’t have a woman murdered, even if she’s essentially ruined my life with her blasted article. I can’t believe you’d suggest such a thing.”


Oh,
not
her,
man.
Your
mother.

Harcourt
rolled
onto
his
back
and
spoke
to
the
ceiling.

Have
your
mother
put
down
like
the
old
horse
that
she
is
and
enjoy
the
reprieve.
Marry
in
another
ten
years.


Put
down
my
mo…you

re
mad!


No.
Actually,
it
wasn

t
a
bad
idea
a

tall.

Monty
closed
his
book
again
and
tossed
it
onto
the
table.


All
right.
You

re
both
mad.
I
won

t
be
having
my
mother…put
down,
for
God

s
sake.

BOOK: Lord Fool to the Rescue
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