Whisper of Magic (40 page)

She took her damned time.

“May we come in?” a melodic voice inquired from behind the
blasted canvas, revealing nothing. “We’ve come from London and must speak with
the marquess on a matter of urgency,” she repeated more insistently over
yapping dogs and his brothers’ attempts to hush them.

Damn, another of Ashford’s mistresses? Or another desperate
female determined to trick the dolt into marriage? Most generally, decent women
did not show up on their doorstep without invitation and escorted by no more
than a carriage driver.

Intrigued despite his cynicism, Theo stepped aside and
ushered the iridescent peacock into the war zone that he called home. “Ashford
isn’t here, but come in and dry off, Miss . . .”

“Lady Azenor Dougall.” Unfazed by the excited puppies
rushing at her, she crossed the threshold, leaving the umbrella dripping on the
covered porch.

Azenor
? Despite a
tingling warning at the odd name, Theo was distracted by the petite female
marching into the zoo he called home as if she owned it. Lighting the gray
gloom more brightly than the foyer’s gas lamps, she glanced around at the
billiard table, his precariously perched telescope, the romping spaniels, and
his half-dressed and staring brothers as if she visited Bedlam on a regular
basis.

An enormous hat adorned in vibrantly-hued peacock feathers
concealed her hair and her expression. Theo ached to sweep the eyesore away,
but he couldn’t drag his gaze from the shimmering rainbow of fabric encasing a
figure so curvaceous, he forgot to breathe.

Damn Duncan for claiming all the good women.

“When can we expect Ashford home?” she demanded, tilting her
head just enough for him to see beneath the hideosity that concealed her hair.

Huge, dark-lashed eyes shimmered with the beauty of
midnight—he could almost see stars against a dark blue sky. Pert nose, plump
rose lips, soft oval face—she was all curves everywhere he looked. He was
having a hard time
not
looking. As
were his brothers, their arms now full of wriggling puppies.

If a heavenly body like this inhabited his home, he’d come
down from the roof more often.

“Lady Azenor.” He belatedly remembered to bow. “I’m
Theophilus Ives, Ashford’s brother.” He jerked his head inelegantly at his
gawking siblings. “Erran Ives and Jacques Ives-Bellamy, who were just about to
order tea, if you would like some.”

Theo shot the dunces a telling look. Any tea in the kitchen
would be stale, since they never drank it, but someone had to perform the
niceties—and remove the damned yapping dogs.

Theo hoped he’d phrased the introduction appropriately. His
mother had died only a few years after Erran’s birth. His father had never
remarried, and the social graces hadn’t been high on Theo’s list of lessons or
interests. He preferred stars to people.

A black-gowned scarecrow behind the shimmering angel grunted
a warning, startling him into realizing the lady had accompaniment.

In response to the grunt, Lady Azenor sparkled, even as she
frowned. Theo couldn’t stop gawking like a looby.

“Lord Theophilus,” the lady purred with satisfaction,
apparently placing him on the family tree despite his incomplete introduction.
“This affects you, also. I repeat, when do you expect the marquess?”

“Not at all this evening, given the weather. And if his
fiancée has anything to say about it, probably not the rest of the week.”

Her plump lips pursed in what might have been displeasure on
any other woman. On this one—she seemed posed for kissing. Theo couldn’t
unscramble his addled brain from wanting to hustle her somewhere private, back
to appropriate behavior.

If she was Dunc’s mistress, could she be persuaded to desert
his brother’s riches in favor of a man without wealth or title, a gentleman who
wouldn’t let her travel the roads in a storm?

“Is there a fire where my lady might warm her hands?” the black-garbed
servant inquired with a hint of acidity.

So much for impressing her with his nonexistent charm and thoughtfulness.

“Of course, this way . . .” Theo finally tore
his gaze from the angel to note that Jacques and Erran still stood there as
frozen as he. “Tea!” he ordered, before offering his arm and wondering where in
hell he might find a fire.

A woman who didn’t run screaming from her first sight of the
Hall was a treasure worth pursuing, even if it was his damned titled brother
she wanted.

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Magic in the Stars

The Unexpected Magic Series, Book 1

Sample Chapter

Patricia Rice

Copyright © 2016 Patricia Rice

ISBN: 978-1-61138-577-9

First Publication: Book View Café, March 29, 2016

Published by Rice Enterprises
Dana Point, CA

Cover design by Killion Group

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce
this book, or portion thereof, in any form.

This is a work of fiction. Any
references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used
fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the
product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or
locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Digital edition: 20160110vnm

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P.O. Box 1624, Cedar Crest, NM 87008-1624