To Dream of Love (21 page)

“That is exactly what I intend to do. He is no harm to us or society while he is enjoying himself, strutting about the stage and having the time of his life. Poor Jasper St. Clair. I wonder if Bertram took his job. Come along, my sweeting. We have this night all to ourselves. No Aunt Rebecca, no Bertram, and no Cordelia.”

The landlord of the posting house was waiting for them in the courtyard.

“Fine evening, Mr. Hoskins,” said the marquess cheerfully. He jumped down and lifted Harriet from the carriage.

“I have a bit o’ trouble, my lord. All my private parlors are taken by gentlemen, and I could not put a duchess like her in the common dining room. So when she says she’s an old friend o’ yourn, I said she could share your parlor for supper, but I don’t know as how I’ve done the right thing.”

“Duchess?” said the marquess crossly. “Which duchess?”

“If you wait a bit, I have it wrote down in my book.’

“Oh, if our evening is ruined, it’s ruined,” said the marquess. “Is this mysterious lady ready to dine? I confess to being sharp set myself.”

“Above and waiting for you, my lord. I’m that sorry. I wish I hadn’t a done it.”

“Never mind, Hoskins,” said the marquess, relenting. “Come, Harriet. Let us see who we have to keep us company.”

The marquess opened the door of the private parlor and stood still on the threshold. Harriet peeped over his arm.

The Dowager Duchess of Macham sat at the table, her bright monkey eyes sparkling with malice.

“Took your time getting here,” she grumbled. “Never think of anyone but yourselves, you young people. Don’t expect me to pay for this supper. Told ‘em to charge it to you. If you hadn’t been so tardy in your famous rescue, I might have been able to rescue more of my goods. But selfish. That’s what this generation is.”

“I cannot stand this,” muttered the marquess. “Are we never to be alone again?”

“We have the rest of our lives together,” murmured Harriet.

“So we have!” said the marquess, brightening. “So we have!”

So he took his place at the table, smiled lovingly at the old duchess, and said mildly, “I should have let you burn, you horrible woman. Pass the salt.”