Page 72 of The Duke of Seduction
Chapter 13
Sweet song! Her words make flowers bloom.
Sweet visage! Her love slays the gloom.
Great heavens! She drives black cruel night
From those who see her grace alight.
-FromAn Ode to Miss Rose Stewart
by The Duke of Seduction
Lavinia’s motherbustled into her bedchamber. “Time to wake up, dear. That must have been a rather horrid headache. You never sleep this late.” She pushed open the heavy drapes and moved to stand at the edge of Lavinia’s bed.
Rolling over to avoid her mother’s gaze, Lavinia exhaled. “Yes. And I may spend the day abed.” What reason did she have to get up? She closed her eyes against the offending daylight.
“Oh no, not today. Today is the day you will be engaged to marry!”
Lavinia’s eyes flew open, and she sat up, turning toward her mother. “What?”
“Sir Martin approached your father last night at the club and asked if he could propose today. Isn’t that wonderful?”
No, it wasterrible.
Why? She’d already decided he was her best option.
But she didn’t want him. She wanted Beck. Who didn’t want her.
She resisted the urge to bury her head under her pillow. “What time is he coming?”
“My goodness, you don’t sound very excited, but then you did say you wanted to spend the day abed.” Mother’s brow pleated, and she frowned. “Are you still ill?”
“Yes.” She actuallywasill. Or felt like she could be.
“Well, rest for a bit, and I’ll have some chocolate and rolls sent up.” Occasionally, her mother could be quite caring and thoughtful. “I’m sure Sir Martin won’t call for a while yet.” She gave Lavinia an encouraging smile before departing.
With a groan, Lavinia threw herself back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Anger and sadness warred inside her as she directed all manner of ill thoughts toward Beck. A few minutes later, a maid arrived with a small tray and set it on the table situated in front of the window that faced the street below.
After she left, Lavinia pulled herself from the bed and trudged to the table. She picked up a roll and nibbled the corner as she pulled the drape aside, hoping it was gray and rainy outside to match her dismal mood.
A blue ribbon tied to the railing in front of the house across the street made her heart stop.
Beck.
What the devil was he doing? He’d been clear last night—she had nothing to hope from him. Unless he’d changed his mind.
She had to know.
If she rang for her maid and asked to dress for an excursion, she couldn’t slip out unnoticed. And if she told anyone where she was going, she wouldn’t be allowed. Mother would insist she stay home to await Sir Martin’s arrival.
Which meant she had to dress herself. No matter. She possessed clothing that could be donned without help. It would be a simpler costume, but once she put the pelisse over it, she would look quite put together.
She worked quickly and was able to ready herself in astonishingly rapid time. But then she was exceptionally motivated. Now the trick would be to steal from the house without attracting notice. That left the main staircase out of the equation. Her mother was probably in the front sitting room watching for Sir Martin’s arrival, even though it likely wouldn’t happen for a couple of hours yet.
Oh, Sir Martin. She did feel bad for not wanting to marry him. He was a nice gentleman—if a trifle overbearing—but compared to Beck, it would be like settling for a potato pie when there was maybe a roast rack of lamb available.
She had to see if the lamb was on the table.
