The Duke's Messenger Read Online Free Page A

you have heard why the Fitzgerald woman has left Mount Street in such great haste.”
    “Nothing like that, Aunt. Something far better.”
    Phrynie Sanford was no stranger to duty. Now, visibly, she pulled herself erect and prepared to be, if not enthusiastic, at least civil. “Better? In that case, I should like to hear.”
    Suddenly shy, Nell did not answer at once. Now that she was invited to share her news, she was most unaccountably loath to do so. However, she was aware of her aunt’s somewhat bloodshot eye commandingly on her and, like a winter swimmer, plunged into the water.
    “Dear aunt, I owe it all to you. You’re so generous, so — “
    “So impatient,” interrupted Phrynie, tartly. “Do you indeed have something to tell me? If not, I believe I shall lie down somewhere.”
    “Oh, no, Aunt, you mustn’t!”
    Her protest was met by a raised eyebrow. “Mustn’t I?”
    “You are to have a caller this morning.”
    Lady Sanford’s nerves were not at their best. “Nell, I must warn you…”
    “Aunt, Lord Foxhall is coming to call.”
    Lady Sanford stared at the tablecloth. Her fingers, apparently of their own volition, began to plait her napkin. “Dear me. That punch cup must have been insufferably strong. Nell, my dear, forgive me, but I thought you said Lord Foxhall.”
    “Yes, Aunt.”
    “Nell, I must inform you that if this is a species of japery, I shall be seriously displeased. I agree, this kind of mischief is much more in Tom’s line. However, I am a bit too addled this morning to be tolerant of any funning.”
    Her aunt’s reception of Nell’s stupendous news boded ill. “Dear Aunt, pray believe me,” cried Nell, nearly in tears. “He asked last night — after the first waltz, it was — permission to call this morning — for a private interview. With me.”
    “Good God!” said Phrynie, at last comprehending the situation. “Foxhall. No one will believe it. Precisely no one, not even me. Private interview with you? Then of course he will wish to see me. What shall I wear? Nell, you must send for me at once when you’ve accepted.”
    Nell was silent. Misgiving struck her aunt. She fixed Nell with a commanding eye. “Surely, Nell, this offer you will not greet with missish refusals? You will accept?”
    “Oh, yes, Aunt. I will.”
    “But Foxhall,” said Phrynie. “Coming to call. That means — of course it must, no question about it. We are not presuming too much, child. It means an offer!”
    Aunt Phrynie’s reaction was all that Nell could have wished for. Lord Foxhall was indeed a catch to addle wits even sharper than Lady Sanford’s, whose perceptions in the ordinary way were not in the least dull.
    Now she simply stared at her niece. The full significance of Nell’s triumph was realized. “You sly puss.”
    Nell basked in her aunt’s warm approval. “I hoped you would be pleased, Aunt. And to think I almost didn’t want to go to the ball last night!”
    Phrynie was too much a woman of the world, however, to take Nell’s news at face value. Nell’s information was indeed startling, not to say unbelievable. No matter how sincere the child was, thought her aunt, her inexperience might well lead her into a misapprehension of Foxhall’s intentions. Now, noting well Nell’s euphoria, she believed she had solved the mystery of the girl’s recent abstracted moods.
    Phrynie hoped devoutly that Nell would not be devastated when — that is, if — she learned she was in error over Foxhall’s sentiments. Best to be prepared for disaster, she thought, and began to explore the possibilities.
    Her thoughts ran swiftly over the previous evening. Lord Foxhall had indeed danced — in fact, waltzed — with Nell, besides standing up with her for the first set. “But what about the Freeland woman?” Lady Sanford spoke her thoughts. “She’s been all but in his pocket this long time.”
    “Penelope Freeland,” said Nell, somewhat stiffly, “has nothing to do with dear