The Duke's Last Hunt Read Online Free Page A

how to infuse a situation with awkwardness. Henry felt sorry for the young lady. But not sorry enough to dismiss the mischievous thought that came to him. Hayward had thwarted his plans to vex Rufus with his new calling card—but circumstances had provided another opportunity with which to vex him. He would still be able to put some pebbles in Rufus’ boots today.
    “Miss Malcolm is a great friend of mine from London,” said Henry, spilling forth this fabrication with enthusiasm. “I heard that Rufus had invited her to Harrowhaven, so naturally, I decided to pay a visit to you, Mother, at the same time.”
    Miss Malcolm stared at him, her lips slightly parted. She was tall for a woman, and he was only of average height for a man, making their eyes nearly on a level. He wondered if she would have the courage to contradict him. But no—she kept silent and her opportunity was lost.
    “I see,” said his mother, her eyebrows crinkling together in foreboding. It was not the first time Rufus and Henry had been rivals.
    “How interesting!” trilled Adele, spreading her fan in front of her face to hide a grin. Henry gave her a wink—he might have known that Adele would appreciate the situation as much as he did. He could see his sister cast an appraising glance at Miss Malcolm’s plain gown and pretty features. “Please, sit down, my dear,” she said to their guest, gesturing to the empty sofa. Henry deposited his charge and stepped back, giving her an encouraging smile.
    “Aren’t you going to introduce the rest of us?” asked Robert, perching himself primly on the edge of his chair so as not to wrinkle his coattails. He lifted his monocle to examine the fair intruder.
    “It would be my pleasure,” said Henry. “Miss Malcolm, allow me to present my half-brother, Robert Curtis. My sister Adele needs no introduction, I suppose. And this is Mr. Stephen Blount, a longtime friend of mine—although something tells me that he is not here to visit me .”
    Adele giggled at this last part, and Stephen cleared his throat in annoyance.
    “Do you paint, Miss Malcolm?” Adele asked, leaning in confidentially. Henry sat down on the other side of the sofa, a little closer than he normally might to a lady not his relative. He watched as Miss Malcolm’s right hand, which was trailing absently over the upholstery, moved suddenly into her lap.
    “Yes,” said Miss Malcolm, fixing her attention completely on Adele.
    “And play the pianoforte?”
    “A little.”
    “And sing?”
    “Not at all.”
    “That is no matter. I don’t think Rufus much cares for music. Although Henry might.” Adele smiled archly.
    “Miss Malcolm,” said the duchess, no doubt determined to intervene before her daughter humiliated their guest entirely, “I suppose we have the honor of your parents visiting as well?”
    Henry frowned. Had Rufus not informed his mother which guests they would be receiving? He knew all too well the autocratic control that Rufus exercised over the estate since their father’s death, but he had assumed that his mother was still mistress of the family home.
    “Oh, yes,” said Miss Malcolm. The dark lashes around her green eyes fluttered in surprise. “I do apologize that they are late for tea. They were removing the dust from travel.”
    She blushed again as she said this, and her fingers rubbed a fold of her skirt. She was still in her own traveling dress, Henry noticed, the plain gray a great contrast to the frilly white chiffon that Adele was sporting.
    “No matter, for here they are now!” said the duchess, and pulling his eyes away from Miss Malcolm’s face, Henry saw Hayward opening the drawing room doors to announce Sir Arthur and Lady Malcolm.
    * * *
    Eliza breathed a sigh of thanksgiving as her father and mother entered the room. The last fifteen minutes had been almost unbearable, first Henry Rowland’s insolence in the saloon and then his outrageous claim to friendship with her. Rufus’ mother seemed