When the Duke Returns by Eloisa James Page A

letters. “I’ve informed everyone of your precarious health. I’d like you to frank these letters at your earliest convenience. My acquaintances will be kind, Cosway. Noblemen are kind to each other.”
    â€œMother, can you explain why Mr. Pegg’s bill for shoeing the horses and maintaining the carriages was never paid?”
    â€œPegg? Pegg? Who’s that?”
    â€œThe Pegg family has acted as blacksmiths to the Dukes of Cosway for generations, or so he tells me.”
    â€œOr so he tells you!” she said, pouncing on it like a cat on a mouse. “Ay, there’s the rub! They’ll say anything. Don’t pay it! Make him show you the work before you give him a ha’penny.”
    â€œThe work was done four years ago.”
    â€œWell, a good blacksmith’s work would endure a mere four years. If it hasn’t, then you needn’t pay him on the grounds of shoddy work.”
    â€œIf you’ll excuse me, Mother, I must return to the study.”
    â€œI shan’t excuse you just yet,” she said. “Honeydew informs me that you find the water closets inadequate in some way.”
    â€œYes. They stink.”
    She bridled, but it was his turn to raise his hand. “They stink , Mother. And the reason they stink is that Father installed water closets throughout this house and then neglected to have them cleaned out. The pipes must have burst years ago. Water is no longer running through the drains; they must be cleaned.”
    Her face was rigid with anger. “The duke did everything just as he ought!”
    â€œHe ought to have had the pipes cleaned once a year. Honeydew tells me that Father judged it an untoward expense. Why, I can’t tell. But the odor that infects this entire house is the result. For God’s sake, it smells worse in a duke’s house than it does in a Bombay slum!”
    â€œYou have no right to speak to me in that pestering fashion! The duke installed the water closets in good faith. The pipes were created of such inferior material that they fell to pieces.”
    â€œWhy didn’t father have them repaired?”
    â€œHe demanded the pipes be repaired, naturally!”
    â€œI expect he hadn’t paid for the original work,” Simeon said.
    â€œHe had paid more than a reasonable amount, given the slip-shod work that was done. As witnessed by the fact that the drainage failed almost immediately. He was correct not to pay those thieving rascals!”
    â€œIndeed.” He rose, ignoring the question of protocol. “I wish I could find it in my heart to believe that was the truth. You have my apologies.” He bowed and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

Chapter Seven
    Gore House, Kensington
London Seat of the Duke of Beaumont
February 26, 1784
    T he carriage drew up at the Beaumonts’ townhouse at precisely ten o’clock. Simeon knew because he had timed it to perfection. He was used to planning expeditions like minor military excursions, accounting for wayward tribes, robbers, sandstorms. In England, the road was smooth, the carriage functioned, nary a thief lurked to bring down his horses. He arrived in London the night before, woke up at dawn and waited for the appropriate hour to pay a call on his wife. It was all easy.
    And nothing was easy.
    For one thing he had to tell his wife, who alreadythought he was cracked, that their wedding had to be delayed. Again.
    Isidore was undoubtedly contemplating annulment, and perhaps he should just let that happen. They could both find more suitable mates.
    She wasn’t what he pictured.
    When he thought about his wife—and he had, now and then—he remembered a portrait of a sweet-faced little girl, dressed as richly if she were a Renaissance princess. That was why his father had arranged the marriage, of course. The Del’Finos were rich as Croesus and his father wanted her dowry, and never mind the fact that his son was a child