The Bewitching Hour by Diana Douglas Page B

miss.”
      “And quit grinning like a loon.”
      “Yes, miss.”
      Priscilla looked up at Beldon and was shocked to see that he was also smiling, though he quickly replaced it with a very proper look when he caught her gaze. In the twenty years he had been their butler she wasn’t certain she had ever seen him smile. “Good heavens,” she said as she stomped inside. “I do wish everyone would stop being so cheerful!”

    “You’ve got it bad my friend.” Rand had just settled himself in a large leather chair on the other side of Stratton’s desk in his study.
      Stratton set down his quill, looked at Rand and scowled. “What the devil are you talking about?”
      “I come into your office unannounced and find you staring into space with a lovesick expression on your face. In addition, you’ve dripped ink all over your paperwork. I hope it wasn’t important.”
      Stratton swore as he saw the blotches of ink on correspondence he had just received from his man of affairs. “I’m suffering from unfulfilled lust, not love.”
      Rand snorted. “Rubbish. It’s more than lust. You are completely besotted with Miss Priscilla Hawthorn. It’s enough to make me ill. But as your friend I want to see you happy, so I suggest you consider marrying her.”
      Stratton’s mouth dropped open. “Good God! Marry her? Isn’t that a bit premature? I’ve seen her exactly twice. I barely know her.”
      “It makes perfect sense. Her background is perfectly acceptable and you do need an heir. You have to get married some day. It might as well be Miss Hawthorn.”
      “At present, she thinks I’m forward and ill-mannered.”
      “Excellent.” Rand nodded approvingly. “It’s best that she understands that now instead of finding out once you’re married.”
      “It would be a rude surprise, wouldn’t it?” Stratton agreed. “I don’t know, Rand. I honestly can’t stop thinking about her. It’s beyond my scope of experience and a damnable situation to be in.”
      “She’s not the type to dally with. The way I see it, you’ve got two choices. You can court her or you can stay away from her.”
      “I don’t think I can stay away from her.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Oh, hell. It’s complicated isn’t it? This ridiculous situation with Bertram and these elusive letters will have to be taken care of. I'm not certain I can court Miss Hawthorn and dodge Bertram, all at the same time.”
      “You’ve never figured out what this Miss Dearborn’s talking about?”
      Stratton shook his head. “I haven't the vaguest idea. I don’t remember receiving any letters from a fifteen year old female and I certainly don’t have them now.”
      Rand tipped his chair back on two legs, felt it wobble, quickly caught the edge of the desk and saved himself from falling flat on his back. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed.
      “Impressive reflexes,” Stratton commented. “Don’t know that I could have done as well.”
      Rand leaned over and saw that the bottom of one leg appeared to be well chewed. “You do realize, don’t you, that those damned dogs are eating your furniture?”
      Stratton ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced. “Yes. I’ve had to start locking the door in here. For some reason, the beasts don’t like closed doors. They’ll whine and cry until it’s so blasted annoying that someone opens the door. They have taken over the house. It’s ludicrous.”
      Rand got up to switch chairs. Then he headed over to a side cabinet to pour himself a brandy. “Any idea when your parents will be back?”
      “No, but I’m afraid it will be some time. The baby’s not due for another three months, and I imagine they will stay another three or four months after.” He rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. “At least when