A Ravishing Night With The Mysterious Earl (Steamy Historical Regency)
Page 30
“I like the place,” she said without turning around, “Let us move here.”
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“And that finishes the drawing room!” Joan said brightly. She put the fabric samples aside to beam at her family with obvious delight. “All that remains to discuss are the bedchambers, your dressing room, Abby, and your upstairs sitting room.”
Abby looked from her mother to Philip and bit her lip to hide a smirk. Mr. Sinclair’s eyes were glazed over and his normally impeccable couture showed signs of wear and tear; a byproduct of a seemingly endless afternoon sequestered in the shop, deliberating with Abby and her mother on decorating decisions for the home he and Joan had bought.
Serves him right.
Abby was feeling a little vindictive following her mother and Philip’s refusal to confide in her. In fact, she was more than a little upset by the manner in which they continued to treat her like a child. Especially since her mother thought nothing of leaving her alone with a gentleman while she house-shopped but could not even tell her why they had waited this long to make a move.
“Dash it, Abby, surely you and your mother can devise a scheme for the bedchamber without my help. Do my own room the way I want at another time. Can’t be expected to decorate a ladies’ bedchamber, stands to reason!” grumbled Philip.
Philip was to have his own rooms in their house for propriety’s sake although nobody was laboring under the illusion that he would actually sleep there. Oh no, guardian he might be to Abby but he was much more than that to Joan.
“Well, I’m sure Mother and I can manage just fine,” Abby said a little doubtfully. “And I have no doubt it would look all the crack when we were done with it! But your opinions are so particular that I fear that I would hear complaints about this and that, forever on.”
“Stuff and nonsense,” Philip said stoutly. “I am the very epitome of a devil-may-care. The question is, are we done with the dressing rooms?”
Abigail shrugged, “No use asking me. Don’t even know what kind of furniture Mother and I will need in the dressing room. Never seen a lady's dressing room, after all.”
Taking pity on her beau, Joan said, “You and I can do a good job on our own, Abby.” Tongue in cheek she continued, “I’m quite sure Philip won’t have much cause to notice what my bedchamber looks like, anyway, so my tastes are unlikely to bother him. Isn’t that right, Philip?”
Philip looked shocked, and said, “But, my dear Joan—”
“Exactly so!” Abigail said, trying to forestall a descent into bawdy territory. Her mother and Philip could be quite shameless on occasion.
To Abigail’s astonishment, she saw that Philip was bright red and flustered. He fairly leaped out of his chair. “Well, that is to say…not a conversation for company! Must go anyway; meeting a colleague at Whitechapel. Can’t take you, my dear but I shall be by later.” He bowed to Joan before turning to Abigail, “I will see you then, too, Abby.” He started walking backward out of the drawing room, stopped, strode back, kissed his beloved’s fingertips with his typical elegance, and left.
Abby watched him go with a bemused smile, thinking if she found anything close to the love that her mother and Philip shared, she would be content. Joan gave her a look.
“Well, he was in a hurry…” she exclaimed.
Abigail snorted with laughter. “I declare I’ve never seen Philip move that quickly before. However, Mother, I do not blame him one bit. What a thing to say!”
“But what did I say?” Joan asked, acting befuddled. “Was it about the bedchambers?”
“To be sure it was, you goose!” Abby said with a laugh. “You do love to embarrass that man, Mother, don’t think you have me fooled. One day he shall walk out that door and not return, you mark my words. You must stop being such a tease before it is the outside of enough.”
“Is…is that why he looked so shocked?” Joan said faintly, stammering with embarrassment. “But our…our…relations were the last thing on my mind, I assure you!”
Abby giggled. “That was only too obvious. Though I am sure it’s no credit to him if that is the case!”
“Hold on, we go too far. This conversation is far too bawdy for mother and daughter. Hand me the fabric for the settee in your chambers. I want to have another look at it.” Joan held out her hand so that Abigail could place the fabric in it. “Besides, you and your Duke are a much more interesting pair than we old scapegraces!”
Abigail narrowed her eyes at her mother. “What a talent you have for changing the topic.”
“I pride myself upon it,” her mother replied with a grin, “Come then, tell me everything.”
“There is nothing to tell…” Abigail said.
“Yet?” her mother prompted.
Abigail sighed, “Nuncheon was lovely. He asked me to the theatre. I might go. Claudette is performing. I do not know how this is supposed to work when he has a fiancée.”
Joan shook her head, “I don’t know, either. What I do know, is you were unable to take your eyes off each other the entire time he was in the shop.”
“Ah, young lust,” Abigail mused with a theatrical sigh, and her mother burst into laughter.
“You are amusing,” she said, pointing at Abigail accusingly.
“Tis the nature of the beast,” Abigail replied.
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Also by Olivia Bennet
Thank you for reading A Ravishing Night with the Mysterious Earl!
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Some other stories of mine:
Secret Confessions of the Enticing Duchess
Wicked Temptations for the Seduced Duchess
Daring Fantasies of a Noble Lady
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Olivia Bennet
About the Author
Having obtained a degree in Journalism, but with an affinity for literature and creative writing, Olivia Bennet knew from a young age that her future lay in the romantic ideals of the past. With a fascination for the Regency era and a good romance, she started her career as a historical romance author the old-fashioned way: with pen and paper.
Born in rural Devon, Olivia draws inspiration from the vast farmlands of the British countryside and the people living in the surrounding villages. An avid artist, she takes her sketchbook everywhere with her and captures the beauty of nature, which she then incorporates into her books.
Allow your conscious to be carried away on a wind made of letters and words, of love, mystery and the magic of the Regency era. Start your journey and allow Olivia’s pen to guide you!