Page 51 of The Moonstone Marquess
They returned to the house, and Lord Crawford rejoined his friends. “You will never guess what Burness has been hiding from us. Or should I saywhomhe has been keeping all to himself. But we are not to go near this earthly angel. I have given him my word.”
Then why blab about it to his dissolute friends?
Cormac did not like this at all.
For all of Lord Crawford’s pleasant manners and words of gratitude, Cormac was not certain he could be trusted.
Perhaps he was being too prickly about it. After all, the man had not uttered Phoebe’s name to his friends, just left it as a vague tease.
Thankfully, his friends were too drunk to care.
He let out a breath of relief when none of them followed up with questions. In their condition, he doubted they could string two words together.
Still, Cormac did not like it.
Lord Crawford opened another bottle of wine, since the one beside Lord Harding was now empty. “Care for a glass, Burness?”
“No. I’ll be heading off shortly.”
“Lucky fellow. Are you certain I cannot accompany you?”
Cormac glanced around and motioned to his “guests.” “I’m certain. You are not ready yet, and someone needs to entertain your friends. It isn’t going to be me.”
He marched upstairs to wash the sand from his body and salt water from his hair, calling for his valet to help him out. Although most peers retained a valet, the need still felt demeaning to Cormac because he was now so helpless at so many tasks.
Gunyon was a good soul, and Cormac tried his best never to take out his frustration on the man who was amiable and went about his duties with due diligence. “How is that, my lord?” he asked, finishing up with a handsome knot of his cravat.
Cormac peered at himself in the mirror and nodded his approval. “Thank you, Gunyon. I shall call for you later.”
“Very good, my lord.”
Cormac headed downstairs, now fit to present himself at Moonstone Cottage.
As he strode past the parlor, Lord Crawford poked his head out and approached him. “Will you not reconsider my joining you?”
“Out of the question.”
The man had not even washed the sand off himself, and Cormac was not about to wait around while he did. He found Lord Crawford’s persistence quite annoying.
Or did he merely not like competition for Phoebe’s affections?
Chapter Ten
Cormac’s heart lightenedas it always seemed to do upon seeing Phoebe. She was standing beside her front door when he rode up on Hadrian, her arms crossed over her chest, fretting her pink lips.
He dismounted, handed the reins to Mr. Hawke, and strode toward her. “Good evening, Phoebe.”
She cast him a hesitant smile. “Good evening, my lord. I wasn’t certain you would show up tonight. The girls have had their supper and are now changed into their nightclothes. Chloe is in their bedchamber reading them a story. How angry are you with me?”
The notion surprised him. “Not angry at all. Why should I be?”
“Because I ran onto your side of the beach after my scheduled hour. I did not mean to, but Imogen’s hat blew off her head while we were drawing in the garden. The wind carried it down the steps and onto the beach. I did not see the harm in chasing after it. It is a good hat and would have been a shame to lose.”
“You are a frugal thing, aren’t you?” He held out his arm to her and led her to the rear of the house to take a turn in the garden so they could speak privately. “I can buy her a dozen straw hats, if need be. Nor do I mind that you were on the beach. That schedule was your concoction, not mine.”
“Because I could not risk the girls being subjected to your…friends.”
He cast her a wry grin. “You mean my naked friends?”
