Seeking Philbert Woodbead ( A Madcap Regency Romance ) (The Fairweather Sisters) Read Online Free

handkerchief
which she used to scrub away the dirt mark on the man’s left cheek. She went on
to straighten his boot, push away the curl from his forehead and smooth out a
wrinkle in his sleeve.
    “He is not
a couch, Celine, whose cushions need to be straightened,” Penelope remarked.
“Now, stop adjusting his limbs and tell me, do you find him handsome?”
    “His
countenance is a trifle green,” Celine replied, “but other than that he is very
handsome. Only a squint eye can take away from his fine features. Is he
squinty, Lord Adair?”
    “Ah, tea is
here,” Penelope interrupted. Her eyes followed the plates laden with fruits and
toasts.
    “Sugar?”
Penelope asked pouring Lord Adair a cup.
    “Yes,
please,” Lord Adair replied.
    Celine
chewed a biscuit. Here they were standing over a man lying prostrate on the duke’s
excellent Turkish carpet drinking tea out of the duchess’ excellent china. This
whole situation felt a little bit odd, and yet no one else seemed to find it in
the least bit strange.
    “I think I
dribbled some tea on him,” Penelope announced peering down at the sleeping man.
    “I think we
should sit,” the duke said, hastily steering his wife towards the couch. “Then
you can tell us, Adair, what brings you here at this hour and who in the world
is this fellow.”
    Lord Adair
sipped from the cup. The china looked ridiculously tiny in his large hands. He
drained the cup in one gulp and set it aside. “This intoxicated gentleman
happens to be Viscount Elmer.”
    “Adair, you
are mistaken. Elmer is twice this man’s size with soft bits and two sprigs of
oiled hair on his head,” the duke said.
    Lord Adair
sighed. “I see, you have no doubt been busy and are as yet unaware of the
slight upset in the Earl of Devon’s household—”
    Penelope
lifted a palm up. “Lord Adair, could you please start from the very beginning.
I have been confined to the four walls of this mansion ever since I discovered
that I was expecting … Celine close your mouth, Lord Adair knows far more about
women than you can ever fathom. Now, Lord Adair, I want you to tell us about
this viscount in detail and slowly. Charles, don’t you dare interrupt. I have
not seen a single soul for months and months and months. I need to hear another
human speak, to tell a tale, a tiny spark of entertainment ….”
    “You are
surrounded by almost three hundred servants, your two sisters, a husband, and
up until last month my mother was constantly by your side … and of course Sir
Henry, “the duke began. A glare from his wife shut him up.
    “Yes, well,
let me start from the beginning,” Lord Adair said once the duke and duchess had
settled down. “The ninth Earl of Devon has two sons. The elder of the two,
Richard Irvin, recently decided to marry a Spanish girl who knew not a lick of
English. The Earl of Devon threw a grand ball to celebrate the occasion. The
king himself asked to dance with the bride, and after that disaster struck. The
warm blooded, sharp tongued girl was a bit too vocal in her protestations when
the king’s fingertips started roaming a little too freely during the dance. She
failed to comprehend that the fingertips were royal, for her translator and
companion, a charming Miss Daisy, failed to enlighten her, since she lay
sprawled in the gazebo after drinking a few too many glasses of punch.” Lord
Adair smiled. “And it was only natural that Richard’s new bride should pluck a
glass of wine from Dame Melford’s hand and dump it on his highnesses’ head.”
    “She
didn’t,” his listeners gasped.
    “She did,
and what’s more she proceeded to pinch the fleshy bit near his waist when he
refused to release her. Richard and his bride escaped for Spain that very
night.”
    “Naturally,”
Penelope commented.
    “After
that,” Lord Adair continued, “the Earl of Devon was afraid of losing his title.
He therefore disinherited his eldest son and claimed his younger son, George
Irvin, to be his