Page 55 of Wicked Is the Duke
As soon as he made it out of the crowded room, he heard his name being called. Drat! He should have left while the debate was underway. Now, until he was outside, everyone would be fair game to approach him, whether he wanted them to or not. The man in question was a Scot. Merlin Frazier, Duke of Kirkwood.
"Frazier," he acknowledged as the man neared. "I'm afraid I'm off to an appointment with my solicitor," he lied. It served better than using his wife as his means of escape.
"I won't keep you then. I understand congratulations are in order. You married recently?"
"Thank you. Yes, I did. The former Anna Grover."
"I've heard of the family, at least her and her brother. They've got connections to the crown?" Frazier inquired.
Henry knew the man had the answer to his question. He was testing Henry, but why? "Yes. Her family has ties to the late Prince Consort. Cousins."
"That's right. I wasn't sure how. Thank you for clearing that up," Frazier replied. His flame red hair was kept neat, just at his collar. He was well dressed, his suit sewn by one of London's finer tailors. Or perhaps Edinburgh's tailors. Unlike some of his counterparts, Frazier didn't wear his kilt to Parliament. Except for his red hair and green eyes, he looked no different than anyone else.
Henry arched a brow and nodded. "Frazier, I'll see you tomorrow. If you'll excuse me, I need to be on my way."
"Blackmont," the man replied. "I would like to discuss an upcoming matter with you. At your convenience, of course."
"Let's discuss whatever you have in mind later. I look forward to it."
He turned and left, escaping to the outer door leading to his carriage. He slowed down his walk to look around. With the days warming up and the sun out, it wasn't surprising to find a good number of people outside taking advantage of the day. He found his carriage nearby and climbed in after barking orders for the coachman to take him home. Home to pick up his wife. His wife. He still had difficulty believing he had taken on the role of husband and hopefully soon, father.
Chapter Nineteen
Anna led her husbandto the unassuming photographic shop and gallery tucked out of the way from the more notable shops that lined the street. She'd been in here many times to browse through the works of up and coming photographers. Most were men, of course, but there was a smattering of women whose work adorned the shop walls.
She smiled at the proprietor as he greeted them. The man was one of the top experts when it came to the art of photography and its equipment, which was why Anna frequented his shop when in town.
Blackmont introduced himself, informing the man what they were after. "Show us only your top of the line equipment. My wife is going to be photographing some business ventures of mine, and I require nothing less than the best for her."
"Yes, Your Grace. Does that mean Her Grace will need processing equipment as well?"
Blackmont blew out an exasperated breath. “Yes, she will."
Anna, seeing her husband's displeasure stepped to his side. "Yes, I require everything. Everything for the camera and for processing. I'll need at least six boxes of plates, with another six to be delivered to Blackmont Crest."
"Yes, Your Grace. If you'll both come with me, I'll show you two cameras. I find each to be the best offered."
