The Suitable Bride (The Emberton Brothers Series Book 2) by Karen Aminadra Page B

did have the opportunity to speak with her father, once they sat down to eat, he found that Lord Davenport was an excellent man to know. As far as Edward was concerned, he could stop searching for a wife now. No one, in his opinion, could surpass Frances Davenport. He could not want anyone other than Frances Davenport. If his memory served him right, and it usually did—although this morning might be an exception—they had arranged to have dinner together this very night.
    Edward smiled at the thought of Frances coming to dine. He knew she would have to bring a companion. He hoped it would be her father. If there were two people in the world that Edward wished to know better, it was Lord Davenport and his daughter Frances.
    As he made his way out of his bedroom, down the hallway and the stairs, and towards the breakfast room, the voice of Edward’s mother, Edwina, entered his mind, warning him that he ought to ask her opinion before fixing an estimation of any lady. He brushed the thought aside. There would be plenty of time to speak to his mother on the subject. After all, he and Frances had only met the night before. It wasn’t as though they would be getting married in the next fortnight.
    Good to his word, Proctor prepared a hearty breakfast: black pudding, scrambled eggs, mushrooms, toast, bacon, and, most importantly, what Proctor referred to as a hair of the dog.
    “What exactly is it, Proctor?” Edward asked, holding the glass up and pulling a face at its contents.
    “I am not allowed to give away any secrets, sir,” the valet replied, smothering a smirk.
    “Secrets?” Edward looked up at him, his eyebrows raised.
    “Indeed, sir.” The valet bowed and left Edward alone with his breakfast, hair of the dog, and the butler, Stainton.
    “Is this concoction any good?” Edward asked the butler.
    “I believe it is, sir,” came the reply. “I have heard of many occasions where it has been used most effectively.”
    Edward squinted at the glass, took a deep breath, and drank down the contents as quickly as he could, trying not to taste whatever was in there. After having held his breath for a few seconds, his head thumped harder than before. He groaned and placed the glass back down onto the table.
    “I believe now, sir, that it is generally accepted that one should drink coffee,” Stainton advised.
    “Whatever you think best, Stainton. As you can see, I am in no fit state to make that decision by myself this morning.” Edward placed his elbows onto the table and rested his head in his hands, deeply regretting having imbibed so much champagne the night before. “Stainton, would you do me a favour?” he asked.
    “Yes, of course, sir.”
    “Next time you see me drinking so heavily, come and stop me,” Edward grumbled into his hands.
    “Very well, sir, if you insist.” The butler poured Edward a cup of strong black coffee and pushed the cup towards him. “Drink up, sir. It will help, I assure you.”
     
    * * * *
     
    “I must say, Emberton,” Lord Davenport drawled, “you do keep a fine house and an even finer table.”
    Edward raised his glass of red wine in thanks. “You are most gracious, Lord Davenport. I am most gratified that you seem to think so.”
    “Indeed I do, as does my daughter. Don’t you, my dear?” Both gentlemen turned abruptly towards Frances, who was taken off guard by the question.
    “Why, yes, yes, I do. Mr Emberton, you are most kind to us.” She smiled at him giving him what Edward believed was a look heavy with unspoken promise.
    “Well, you see!” Lord Davenport turned back to Edward and nodded sideways towards his daughter. “If the lady says so, it must be true, eh, Emberton?”
    “Yes, my Lord.”
    Lord Davenport almost choked upon his wine as he laughed at Edward. “Are you that kind of a man, Emberton? Always agreeing with everything I say?”
    “That depends on what you say, sir.”
    The older man laughed heartily and slapped his left hand on the table