Page 104 of The English Duke
Seconds later she was in his bed.
Susan pressed her ear against the door, listening. A good thing she was blessed with insomnia from time to time. Almost as if nature was warning her: you don’t have many years left. Why spend them in sleep?
Her granddaughter was acting according to her nature. A sad thing, but true. She should have been watching Josephine closer since it was certain she was becoming more and more like her mother.
Susan had disliked Marie from the moment she met her, but there was nothing she could do. Matthew hadn’t stood a chance against Marie’s determination. Perhaps it had been a good thing. Martha had needed a mother after dear Barbara had died and she supposed the woman fulfilled that role in some fashion. What she hadn’t been was a good wife.
Matthew had been so involved in his projects, inventions, and discoveries he never noticed when Marie seemed exceptionally happy. When she took a lover, at least twice a year, Marie nearly danced around Griffin House. Everyone was a beneficiary of a quick kiss and impromptu hug. She could even be heard singing. She left off her needlework for collecting bunches of flowers to arrange in bouquets around the house. She visited the cook, ordering Matthew’s favorite meals. She read to Josephine, fanciful stories of beautiful princesses and the princes who loved them.
These periods were always offset by other, darker times when the affair ended. Susan thought Marie’s conscience occasionally troubled her, which was why she was the one who sent the man away. They’d lost a gardener and two footmen, not to mention that more than one shopkeeper looked yearningly toward Marie.
The woman was not the least bit discriminating. She would bed anything in pants and it looked as if her daughter was following in her footsteps. Nor did she expect Josephine’s behavior to change after she married.
This marriage was going to be a disaster. It was going to make more than one person thoroughly miserable, but she doubted the bride would suffer.
What on earth was she to do? Would it be terrible to wish that something happened to the sanctuary roof? That might prevent the ceremony. She could, perhaps, come down with another illness, but she doubted anyone would believe her. Would the Almighty take kindly to a prayer for guidance at this late stage? She moved to her bed, sat on the side of it, and folded her hands, trying to think of some words that would be convincing as well as contrite.
She truly needed a miracle at this point.
Chapter 30
It was late, past midnight, hardly the hour to wake a guest. If the circumstances were different, Martha would never consider disturbing Jordan. Yet someone had to stop Reese and confront him. Who better than his friend?
She knocked on the door to the Queen’s Rooms, faintly at first and then louder when he didn’t answer. Perhaps he was asleep. After all, tomorrow was his wedding day.
If he didn’t respond, she would return to the stables, retrieve theGoldfish, and face down Reese herself.
She was turning to walk away when the door finally opened.
She glanced back to see Henry standing there, worry in his eyes.
“Miss York.”
She was surprised to see him. Normally, he would be asleep in the servants’ quarters on the fourth floor. Unless, of course, Jordan needed him for some reason.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, Miss York,” he said, his voice lowered to a whisper.
She didn’t believe him.
“Is His Grace all right?”
He glanced back toward the suite, then shook his head.
“May I see him?”
“He doesn’t like visitors at times like this, Miss York.”
She was hardly simply a visitor.
“Is it his leg? Has he taken the elixir?”
He looked startled at her question.
“No, miss,” he said. “He refuses.”
“I need to see him.”
