His Scandalous Kiss: Secrets at Thorncliff Manor: 6 by Sophie Barnes Page B
Authors: Sophie Barnes
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the necessary funds to her brother upon his request. Sealing the letters, she sat back in her chair, pondering the idea that
had been forming in her mind since the previous evening. “Amy,” she said, drawing her maid’s attention from across the room.
“Yes, my lady?” She’d been mending a loose ruffle on one of Mary’s chemises, but paused in her task and raised her head, giving
Mary her full attention.
“I have been thinking about what you said last night—about giving my mystery man a chance.” Amy said nothing, but her curiosity
was clear due to her arched eyebrows. “The problem is that I do not know where to find him.”
“There must be something for you to go on.”
“He called himself Signor Antonio.”
“Perhaps it is a clue,” Amy suggested. “His real name might be Anthony. Do you know of a peer by that name?”
“A couple of gentlemen come to mind, but one is not here and the other is married, so I doubt it can be either of them. But
what if . . .” Biting her lip in contemplation, Mary drummed her fingers casually against the surface of her desk. “What if
I were to write to Signor Antonio and leave the letter on the silver salver in the foyer. I doubt the butler will know who
to deliver it to, so he will probably ask Lady Duncaster, and then she will have no choice but to help me.”
“She will be duty bound to deliver the letter,” Amy said, her eyes brightening with excitement.
“Yes. And then it will be up to Signor Antonio to decide what to do with the proposition that I intend to make him.”
“You will be going against Lady Foxworth’s wishes,” Amy pointed out.
“Are you trying to dissuade me now, after everything you have said? This was practically your idea.” Shifting in her seat,
Mary reached for her quill. “Besides, it is a well-known fact that a good romance has a dragon that must be slayed in order
to allow for a happily-ever-after.”
A choked sound escaped Amy. “I hope you are not referring to your aunt.”
Pressing her lips together, Mary tried not to laugh as she set her quill to the piece of paper in front of her. “Of course
not,” she managed. “I am referring to the situation as a whole.”
It was just after noon when Mary descended to the dining room. She’d entrusted Amy with the tasks of posting her letters and
discreetly placing the note for Signor Antonio on the salver in the foyer. Entering the dining room, she was met by Rotridge
who looked as though he’d been standing guard in anticipation of her arrival.
He smiled broadly and offered her his arm. “You look just as lovely today as you did last night,” he said as he guided her
toward a vacant spot at one end of the table.
“Perhaps we can join my aunt and Lady Duncaster,” Mary suggested, noting their presence at the other end of the room. “The
gentleman they are talking to is Mr. Thomas Young, the scientist. I would love to participate in their conversation.”
“Perhaps we can do so later,” Rotridge said, not deviating from his path. Reaching the table, he pulled out a chair for Mary
and gestured for her to take a seat. Leaning close to her, he murmured, “At present, I am too delighted by the prospect of
having you all to myself.”
It was the sort of pronouncement that would make most young ladies blush. Mary arched a brow, but did as she was expected
to do and claimed her seat with elegant poise. As soon as Rotridge was seated beside her however, she turned to him and said,
“My lord, I know that you have the very best of intentions, but if you wish to win my favor, then I would advise you to pay
attention to my interests.” Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she waited for his response.
There was a brief moment of silence, but then he chuckled beside her. “You cannot honestly tell me that you would rather join them in favor of having a quiet tête-à-tête with me?”
Did his arrogance know no
the necessary funds to her brother upon his request. Sealing the letters, she sat back in her chair, pondering the idea that
had been forming in her mind since the previous evening. “Amy,” she said, drawing her maid’s attention from across the room.
“Yes, my lady?” She’d been mending a loose ruffle on one of Mary’s chemises, but paused in her task and raised her head, giving
Mary her full attention.
“I have been thinking about what you said last night—about giving my mystery man a chance.” Amy said nothing, but her curiosity
was clear due to her arched eyebrows. “The problem is that I do not know where to find him.”
“There must be something for you to go on.”
“He called himself Signor Antonio.”
“Perhaps it is a clue,” Amy suggested. “His real name might be Anthony. Do you know of a peer by that name?”
“A couple of gentlemen come to mind, but one is not here and the other is married, so I doubt it can be either of them. But
what if . . .” Biting her lip in contemplation, Mary drummed her fingers casually against the surface of her desk. “What if
I were to write to Signor Antonio and leave the letter on the silver salver in the foyer. I doubt the butler will know who
to deliver it to, so he will probably ask Lady Duncaster, and then she will have no choice but to help me.”
“She will be duty bound to deliver the letter,” Amy said, her eyes brightening with excitement.
“Yes. And then it will be up to Signor Antonio to decide what to do with the proposition that I intend to make him.”
“You will be going against Lady Foxworth’s wishes,” Amy pointed out.
“Are you trying to dissuade me now, after everything you have said? This was practically your idea.” Shifting in her seat,
Mary reached for her quill. “Besides, it is a well-known fact that a good romance has a dragon that must be slayed in order
to allow for a happily-ever-after.”
A choked sound escaped Amy. “I hope you are not referring to your aunt.”
Pressing her lips together, Mary tried not to laugh as she set her quill to the piece of paper in front of her. “Of course
not,” she managed. “I am referring to the situation as a whole.”
It was just after noon when Mary descended to the dining room. She’d entrusted Amy with the tasks of posting her letters and
discreetly placing the note for Signor Antonio on the salver in the foyer. Entering the dining room, she was met by Rotridge
who looked as though he’d been standing guard in anticipation of her arrival.
He smiled broadly and offered her his arm. “You look just as lovely today as you did last night,” he said as he guided her
toward a vacant spot at one end of the table.
“Perhaps we can join my aunt and Lady Duncaster,” Mary suggested, noting their presence at the other end of the room. “The
gentleman they are talking to is Mr. Thomas Young, the scientist. I would love to participate in their conversation.”
“Perhaps we can do so later,” Rotridge said, not deviating from his path. Reaching the table, he pulled out a chair for Mary
and gestured for her to take a seat. Leaning close to her, he murmured, “At present, I am too delighted by the prospect of
having you all to myself.”
It was the sort of pronouncement that would make most young ladies blush. Mary arched a brow, but did as she was expected
to do and claimed her seat with elegant poise. As soon as Rotridge was seated beside her however, she turned to him and said,
“My lord, I know that you have the very best of intentions, but if you wish to win my favor, then I would advise you to pay
attention to my interests.” Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she waited for his response.
There was a brief moment of silence, but then he chuckled beside her. “You cannot honestly tell me that you would rather join them in favor of having a quiet tête-à-tête with me?”
Did his arrogance know no
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