Seeking Philbert Woodbead ( A Madcap Regency Romance ) (The Fairweather Sisters) (19 page)

She felt as
if something supernatural was holding her eyelids wide open. Her eyelashes felt
as if they were glued to her eyebrows.

Was this
room haunted?

She had
never before wondered about Sir Henry’s wife who could easily be a deeply unhappy
spirit moaning around the mansion—”

A shout had
her springing out of bed. She snatched her robe lying atop a chair, and
barefooted she hurtled down the corridor to see what the commotion was about.

She paused
at the top of the stairs, her ears cocked. All she could hear was an odd
ringing sound.

She looked
down the winding staircase which quickly proved to be a dreadful idea. Her head
started spinning alarmingly, and she teetered on the topmost step of the Grand
Staircase.

She was
going to fall.

Fall down
the stairs and break her head.

She closed
her eyes and rocked on her feet.

To and fro
her body weaved while she wondered if there would be blood when she splattered
on top of the Persian carpet lying on the bottom step. And if there would be
blood, then would it be enough to ruin the carpet? She wondered if Mrs Cornley
would be able to get rid of the stain.

She also
wondered when the falling would begin.

“You fool,”
someone roared in her ears. A hand grabbed her waist and lifted her away from
the edge of the staircase.

Her head
stopped spinning, and the scent of whoever held her worked far better than
smelling salts would have. And apart from smelling delectable, the person was
also tall, warm and comforting.

She
snuggled closer.

The arms
tightened around her.

“You could
have fallen and broken your neck.”

Celine
tilted her head back and found George gazing down at her.

“You are
not smiling,” she said frowning.

“No, I am
not,”

“I have
never seen your eyes so grim.”

He pushed her
away, “Why did you leave your room? Didn’t the duchess tell you to rest?”

“I didn’t
want to rest. I was bored. Please stop shouting.”

“A lady
must always be useful,” he said sarcastically. “Were you looking for your
knitting needles?”

The fog in
her brain was fading and she was better able to judge his tone. She had never
seen him like this before. His mouth was twisted and his eyes flashed in fury.

“I am
sorry, I heard a shout.”

“I don’t
care what you heard. Hundreds of servants in the house could have gone and
investigated. You were meant to stay in your room.”

“Lord
Elmer,” she said softly, “I didn’t fall. I am alright.”

The anger
went out of him, and he closed his eyes and rested his head against her
forehead.

“You are
alright,” he repeated.

Her throat
seemed too full suddenly to make a sound, so she nodded. Her nose brushed
against his.

His hand
once again went around her waist and he pulled her closer, “Celine,” he began.

“Amy,” she
whispered back.

“Amy, go
back to bed.”

She could
tell he was smiling from his voice. “We have been chased by murderous pirates
and you have never turned a hair. How come a little fainting spell frightened
you?” she teased, lifting her lashes and searching his face.

His eyes
dropped to her lips, “That was before I knew—”

“Dorothy,”
someone yelled.

“That was
Penelope,” Celine cried, slipping under his arms. “I have to see ….”

“Amy,
stop,” George shouted chasing after her.

She ignored
his calls and only halted once she had reached the bottom step.

Penelope
stood holding Dorothy’s hand in a firm grip. The duke was glowering.

“What is
the matter?” Celine asked.

“Celine,
didn’t you say I could have a pet? I asked you,” Dorothy babbled the moment she
saw her.

“Yes, and I
said that you may as long as the duke agrees,” Celine replied.

“And he
did, didn’t he? You were in the room when I asked.”

Celine
nodded.

Dorothy
turned to Penelope triumphantly.” I told you I had permission to keep a pet.”

“Dorothy,
please introduce Celine to your pet,” Penelope ordered in a tight voice.

Dorothy
gulped but did as she was told. “Tommy, this is Celine, the greatest sister in
the whole world. She is never angry and has the sweetest of temperaments …”
Penelope made an impatient noise and she hurriedly continued, “and, Celine,
this is my pet … Tommy the chimney sweep.”

Celine
gaped at the little soot faced boy in horror. “This is your pet?”

Dorothy
nodded, “Look at his little face, isn’t he angelic? Do you know he has to climb
up chimneys to clean them, and when he grows older and bigger, he will get
stuck up there and never come down? How could I leave the fellow starving? He
is the best pet I have ever had. He loves bread and milk … He learns so quickly
and, oh, don’t make me give him away.”

Penelope’s
mouth turned down, “Charles, the fellow is so small. Can’t we—”

“No,” the
duke said, his eyes shifting from Dorothy to his wife in terror. “We are not
keeping a chimney sweep as a pet.”

George
chuckled from behind Celine.

“Can’t we
adopt him?” Penelope insisted, her hand going to her belly.

“Dorothy,
go to the nursery. Leave Tommy here,” Celine said firmly. It was time to sort
things out. “Penny, you cannot adopt the boy. His mother will be looking for
him. Won’t she?” she asked turning to the boy.

The boy
shook his head.

“Then your
father will be looking for you?”

The boy
shook his head again.

“Do you
have a home?”

He
shrugged.

“Can you
talk?”

He stuck a
thumb into his mouth.

“How old
are you?”

He held up
six fingers.

Celine
sighed, her hand going up to rub her temples.

Lord Elmer grabbed
her elbow, “I think the duke can handle this one dilemma. You need to rest.”

She hated
to admit it, but he was right. She turned to go when a manly sob made her turn
back around.

Hopkins, the
duke’s valet, was shedding fat drops of tears. “If you don’t mind, your grace,
can I keep the fellow?”

“I think I
am better equipped to keep him,” the housekeeper spoke up from behind the
pillar.

“He is my
pet,” Dorothy screeched from between the bannisters.

“Perhaps I
…” Gunhilda started to say.

Celine did
not hear the rest. Lord Elmer pulled her away from the scene and up the stairs
and into the room. He pushed her inside and closed the door.

Celine lay
down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. A moment later she heard another
shout, but this time she ignored it and closed her eyes. She was asleep within
moments.

***

After
dinner George walked Celine to her bedroom. It was not what an unmarried
gentleman should do with a gently bred woman, and yet the action barely drew a
gasp from her. She had somewhere along their acquaintance resigned herself to
the fact that, alas, he was not a gentleman and never would be.

“We should
be going to the library,” she said. “I am fine. I slept all evening.”

“Not tonight,”
he replied firmly. “You need to rest.”

“But we
need to discuss the plan for tomorrow. Time is speeding away and we have to
scheme in greater detail. We were almost caught today,” she argued.

“If you
don’t want to sleep, then don’t, but I certainly do. I spent all day inventing
falsehoods, and that duke is a sharp devil and difficult to dupe. It taxed my
brain awfully. We won’t be able to do anything concrete with my brain feeling
like something soft and shapeless.”

She sneezed
and reluctantly nodded.

“Bless you
and may your wits come back to you,” he said handing her a snowy handkerchief.

She took it
and rubbed her itchy red nostrils. “What happened right after I lost
consciousness? What did you tell the duke?”

George
smiled. “I have worked with the best of ruffians, scoundrels and swindlers, my
dear. I simply used my finely honed wits and—” He stopped at the look in her
eye. “I will get to the meat of the matter. As soon as you swooned, I lifted
you up and carried you indoors. And while the duchess took care of you and the
duke took care of the duchess, I slipped out and begged Gunhilda to agree to
the fact that she had indeed accompanied us on our drive into town.”

“Where did
you say we went?” she asked, pausing outside her room door.

“I told the
duke that Gunhilda’s sister happens to live close by and she was going through
some sort of a feminine pickle. They needed you to sort things out for them.
The duke thought it prudent not to dig too deep.”

“I see, and
how did you convince Gunhilda? I didn’t think she could be bribed.”

“I did not
bribe her, I blackmailed her.”

Celine
gurgled.

George took
that as an encouragement to continue, “A few nights ago I caught her kissing
the cook in the kitchen. That disturbing vision became exceedingly helpful when
I was trying to convince her of our predicament this evening. I only had to
mention it once.”

Celine was
shocked, but she was also amused.

“How could
you do such a horrid thing?” She giggled and frowned at the same time.

“If I had
not, then the duke would have insisted that I marry you or he would have shot
me through the heart,” he said leaning towards her.

The look in
his eye made her bite her lip. “Yes, neither option sounds good.”

“Would you
have married me to save my life?” He moved closer to her. His hand came up to
rest next to her head.

Her back
hit the door, and she looked at his wrist resting within kissing distance. Her
breath whooshed out and did not return for a long while.

His other
hand slid around her waist, and his eyes darkened.

Her heart started
banging in her ribs eager to leap out of her chest and offer itself to him on a
gilded platter.

He
whispered softly, “Tell me, Amy, would you rather have the duke shoot me or
would you have agreed to marry me?”

She heard
the words as if from a distance. His scent teased her nose, his lips curved up
in a taunting smile. He was daring her, daring her to be bold, frivolous and
not at all sensible. Her back arched towards him, her limbs fighting with the
angry Mrs Beatle yowling in her brain.

“Amy, shoot
or marry?” he coaxed, his fingers gripping her waist a touch harder.

“Shoot
you,” she replied huskily. Her hand snuck up and grasped his lapels.

His lips
turned up in a wicked smile. “You are the only woman I would allow to crease my
coat,” he said, his lips a breath away from hers.

“I feel
privileged,” she replied unsteadily, her mouth parting in invitation.

“What are
you doing?” Penelope called.

They leaped
apart.

“What were
you doing?” Penelope repeated. She raised a brow and her foot tapped as she waited
for them to respond.

“There was
a fly in her eye,” George burst out. “Yes, a fly in her eye which I was
removing.”

“He is
right, fly in this eye,” Celine hurriedly agreed. As an afterthought, she
fluttered and blinked her right eye.

“You look
like you are having some sort of a spasm, Celine,” Penelope said. “I thought
you were kissing.”

“You should
be in bed,” Celine muttered. “Go to bed.”

“I can’t
sleep when I am hungry,” Penelope replied.

“What do
you want? I will bring it to your room. You are not allowed to walk around,”
Celine said hurriedly.

“I want the
smelliest fish in the kitchen, and drizzle some honey over it,” Penelope
requested.

“I will
bring it.”

Penelope
eyed George up and down and back again. Her expression was dubious as she
shuffled off to her room.

“I have to
go,” Celine mumbled, barely looking George in the eye.

“Wait,” he
called.

She ignored
him and gripping her skirts sprinted towards the kitchens.

The moment Lord
Elmer’s shiny brown shoes disappeared around the corner, Celine crawled out
from behind the potted plant. Still on all fours she made her way towards her
bedroom. She had managed to avoid him since last night even if at times she had
been forced to resort to improper means.