Darling Beast (Maiden Lane) Read Online Free Page A

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    “Do have a seat,” Makepeace drawled. He pulled open a drawer in a chest and took out a shirt.
    “Thank you,” Montgomery replied without any sign of embarrassment. He sat, crossed his legs, and flicked a minuscule piece of lint off the silk of his breeches. “I’ve come to see about my investment.”
    Apollo frowned. He’d been against taking money from Montgomery from the start, but Makepeace had somehow talked him into it with his usual glib tongue. Apollo couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d made a pact with the Devil. Montgomery had been abroad for over ten years before his abrupt return to London and society. No one seemed to know much about the man—or what he’d been doing for those ten years—even if his title and family name were well known.
    Such mystery gave Apollo an itch between the shoulder blades.
    “Good,” Makepeace said loudly. “Everything’s going just dandy. Smith here has the landscaping well in hand.”
    “Sssm-i-th,” Montgomery drew out the ridiculous name Makepeace had given Apollo, making the sound into a sibilant hiss. He turned to Apollo and smiled quite sweetly. “And I believe that Mr. Makepeace said that your first name is Samuel, is it not?”
    “He prefers Sam,” Makepeace growled, tacking on a hasty “Your Grace.”
    “Indeed.” Montgomery was still smiling, almost to himself. “Mr. Sam Smith. Any relation to the Horace Smiths of Oxfordshire?”
    Apollo shook his head once.
    “No? A pity. I have some interests there. But it
is
a very common name,” Montgomery murmured. “And what plans do you have for the garden, may I ask?”
    Apollo flipped to the back of his notebook and showed it to the duke.
    Montgomery leaned forward, examining with pursed lips the sketches Apollo had made.
    “Very nice,” he said at last, and sat back. “I’ll drop by the garden later today to take a look, shall I?”
    Apollo and Makepeace exchanged glances.
    “No need for that, Your Grace,” Makepeace began for the both of them.
    “I know there’s no need. Call it a whim. In any case, I shan’t be denied. Expect me, Mr.
Smith
.”
    Apollo nodded grimly. He couldn’t put his finger on why it bothered him, but he didn’t like the idea of the duke sniffing about his garden.
    Montgomery twirled his walking stick, watching the glint of light off the gold top. “I collect that we’ll soon be in need of an architect to design and rebuild the various buildings in the pleasure garden.”
    “Sam’s just started work on the garden,” Makepeace said. “He’s got quite a lot to do—you’ve seen the state the place is in. There’s plenty of time to find an architect.”
    “No,” Montgomery replied firmly, “there isn’t. Not if we’re to reopen the garden within the next year.”
    “Within a year?” Makepeace squawked.
    “Indeed.” Montgomery stood and ambled to the door. “Haven’t I told you? I’m afraid I’m quite an impatient man. If the garden isn’t ready for visitors—and the money they’ll spend—by April of next year, I’m afraid I shall need my capital repaid.” He pivoted at the door and shot them another of his cherubic smiles. “With interest.”
    He closed the door gently behind him.
    “Well, bollocks,” Makepeace said blankly.
    Apollo couldn’t help but agree.
    “I S
WANTONISH
A real word?” Lily asked Maude several days later.
    She sat at the kitchen-cum-dining-room table while Maude hung their washing next to the fireplace.
    “
Wantonish
,” Maude said, rolling the word around her mouth. She shook her head decisively as she twitched one of Indio’s shirts into place over the drying rack. “No, never heard of it.”
    Damn!
Lily pouted down at the play she was writing,
A Wastrel Reform’d
.
Wantonish
was such a wonderful W word—and she really needed more of those. “Well, does it
matter
if ’tisn’t a real word? William Shakespeare devised all sorts of new words, didn’t he?”
    Maude gave her a look. “You’re right