Touch of a Lady Read Online Free Page B

to catch himself on his palms and knees instead of smacking his forehead on the hardwood, but it was a near thing. Unfortunately, the noise he’d made was still a thumping racket in a house that held its breath.
    “For heaven’s sake, be quiet,” a voice hissed from the large wardrobe in the corner. “You’ll bring Lady Florence down on us.”
    “What the devil is this?” Tristan kicked the pile of wire and horsehair he’d tripped over to the corner.
    “My panniers and bumroll, if you must know,” Delphinia whispered back. “I took them off so I could fit into this wardrobe. Now be quiet or we’ll both be found.”
    A set of furtive footsteps did seem to be making their way down the long corridor, stopping at intervals. The click of a latch and the creak of hinges announced that Lady Florence was making the rounds. Tristan slipped into the wardrobe with Delphinia and pulled the door tight behind him. They heard the hook latch on the outside of the door flop down into its loop hinge.
    “Why did you do that?” Delphinia said. “Now we’re locked in.”
    He put two fingers to her lips as the door to the lumber room scraped open. The patter of a pair of footsteps entered the room. Light from a candle showed around the wardrobe door in a faint golden line.
    “There’s no one here.” Lady Florence sighed.
    “You didn’t think there would be, did you?” It was Sanders’ voice. Evidently Tristan’s friend had been caught already and was helping Lady Florence find the others.
    “Not really.”
    “Don’t suppose anyone would hide in the wardrobe,” Sanders said.
    “The door is closed.” Lady Florence’s voice was loud enough to tell Tristan she was mere feet away. “No one would be foolish enough to latch themselves in.”
    Delphinia jabbed Tristan’s ribs with her knuckles to punctuate her agreement with the lady.
    “As for the rest of the room, who’d be unimaginative enough to hide in a trunk?” Florence wondered.
    “A vampyre?”
    A swift smack greeted that remark. “Stop it, Sanders. You’re trying to give me a fright so I’ll swoon into your arms.”
    “An excellent plan. Wish I’d thought of it. However, I seriously doubt anything scares you, madame.”
    There was silence for a moment. Then the duke’s daughter said, “I’m afraid of looking foolish.”
    Tristan’s conscience flayed him. If he was caught in this wardrobe with the very comely Miss Preston, Lady Florence would look foolish since she’d been publicly encouraging him. It would be a very short walk for everyone at the house party to reach the conclusion that he was besotted with the commoner. Even so, the expectations of their families being what they were, it was entirely possible that the duke’s daughter would still accept his suit.
    Why did Society demand such falseness?
    His father had kept one mistress after another. When Tristan was grown, the earl had admonished him to follow suit, always providing he was discreet. But once, Tristan had caught his mother weeping after his father left for the evening. She claimed it was for “no reason” and that women were naturally emotional about the smallest of trifles. No matter how discreet his father thought he was being, Tristan was convinced his mother knew his father spent Thursday evenings in a snug little house in Cheapside with the woman who’d borne him at least three bastards.
    “You could never look foolish, my lady,” Sanders assured Florence. “Unless, of course, you keep refusing my suit.”
    Another smack and a light laugh was her answer. “Oh, Sanders, I shall miss you once I wed another.”
    “There’s a simple remedy for that. Marry me instead.”
    This time she didn’t swat him. She simply laughed as they made their way back into the corridor and down to the next dark room.
    “Well, that was close. Think how Lady Florence would have felt if she’d found us,” Delphinia whispered once they were out of earshot. “Aren’t you ashamed of