One Week To Wed. Laurie Benson

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One Week To Wed - Laurie Benson Mills & Boon Historical

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there someone you’d like to see that you haven’t because you have not had the time?’

      Andrew dropped his head back and stared at the coffered ceiling in Gabriel’s study, trying to think of anyone whose company he enjoyed enough to leave London. ‘Toby Knightly and I still write to one another. Do you remember him from Cambridge?’

      Gabriel nodded. ‘Did you not share a room together?’

      ‘We did. He’s an out and outer and has been after me to visit him in Cheshire.’

      ‘Then go to Cheshire.’

      A sly smile lifted Andrews lips. ‘You know there has been unrest in the north.’

      ‘Yes, I know. But you are not going there because of the unrest. You are going there because you need rest and visiting with Toby will be enjoyable.’

      ‘How do you know it will be enjoyable?’

      ‘Hell, man, just go!’

      ‘You will not give me another mission until I take my Grand Tour of the English countryside?’ he asked with sarcasm dripping from his voice.

      ‘No, not until I am certain you are well rested.’

      ‘Then you are leaving me no choice.’

      ‘I’m not. I am relieving you of all duties here for a month.’

      ‘A month! That’s absurd. A week.’

      There was a tick in Gabriel’s jaw. ‘A fortnight and not a day sooner. Do I make myself clear? You are to completely disengage yourself for fourteen days.’

      ‘This new baby you and Olivia have had has softened your brain. Very well. Since you are not giving me a choice, I shall send word to Toby. I’d prefer not to arrive unannounced at his door.’

      Gabriel sat back and smiled. ‘Our mother taught you well. She’d be proud.’

      ‘Well, she does like me best.’

      ‘I’m sure that has nothing to do with your grooming habits or your fashionable attire.’

      ‘My grooming habits are impeccable.’

      ‘You need a shave and a haircut.’

      Andrew ran his hand through his hair that fell a bit past his collar. ‘I like it this length. And no matter what I wear, it will never be up to snuff according to you.’

      ‘I should increase your wages, maybe then you’d see fit to purchase some new coats.’

      ‘I can afford new coats on the income I make from my investments. However, should you see fit to increase my wages, I’ll not complain.’ He glanced down at the sleeve of his brown coat. ‘I like this coat. It’s perfectly worn. You make it sound as though I run around London in doublet and hose. I see no difference in the cut of my coats compared to the cut of the ones you wear.’

      ‘No, I don’t suppose you would.’ A teasing smile was tugging at the corner of his brother’s mouth. ‘You might find you’d attract a different calibre of women if you didn’t consistently look as though you belong in a boxing ring.’

      ‘But I enjoy being in a boxing ring and I’m fine with the calibre of women I attract.’

      ‘Go, Andrew. Give yourself time to rest and release some of that tension.’

      That tension was wound so tightly around every fibre of Andrew’s being it would never leave him. It had taken hold of him years ago, on a rainy night in Richmond when he confronted his beloved uncle who was holding a gun on Gabriel. Andrew did something that night he never thought he was capable of. He took his uncle’s life. Protecting the Crown had a way of changing a man. It had a way of forcing one to lock down emotions that made you vulnerable and allowed you to make the kinds of choices no man should ever have to make.

      There was no sense in telling Gabriel that Andrew could move up north and it still would not matter. Andrew would never be without that tension that held down his emotions to enable him to be an effective and efficient operative. He would never live the life of a country gentleman like Toby. No small estate and pleasant wife were in his future. They were distractions he could not afford. He was a man who was always on a mission. To appease Gabriel he would leave, but it would change nothing.

       Chapter Four

      Settling into the comfortable wing-backed chair, Charlotte accepted a cup of tea from her friend Ann after their walk around the windy garden of Ann’s stately home in the Cheshire countryside.

      ‘Thank you again for your invitation to dine here tonight,’ Charlotte said. ‘Since Lizzy’s recent departure, the house seems unusually quiet. One would think I would be accustomed to the silence, but for some reason I’m feeling it rather acutely at the moment.’

      ‘I’m so glad you accepted my invitation,’ Ann replied with a smile, pouring tea into her Wedgwood teacup. ‘Since Toby invited one of his friends to stay with us, I am grateful for your companionship. Tonight, they went to dine in the village.’ She added a splash of milk to her cup. ‘You never did say why Lizzy decided to leave. I thought she would be staying longer.’

      ‘She had some estate matters to attend to in London.’ Charlotte was certain Lizzy’s hasty departure had more to do with searching out the Duke of Winterbourne’s brother before any other woman grabbed his attention than it did with her solicitor, but she was not about to betray her sister’s interest in the man.

      Disapproval was evident on Ann’s face. ‘I know Lizzy. She’s too social a creature. Do you truly believe she will not attend any entertainments while she is there?’

      That was the very concern Charlotte expressed while Lizzy was having trunk after trunk of her wardrobe brought out of Charlotte’s house and into her awaiting carriage. Lizzy had always been headstrong. Nothing was going to change that. All Charlotte could do was try to minimise the reactions people like Ann were bound to exhibit at the news. ‘It’s been four months,’ she replied, trying to sound as if that was a perfectly acceptable amount of time to wait before returning to Society.

      ‘Four months is not a year. She should be in mourning for a year.’

      ‘I’m aware of that. However, you can be as unconventional as you wish when you are a duchess.’

      ‘I suppose that is one advantage she had being married to him.’ Ann took a sip of tea and stared off into the distance, as if she were considering what it must have been like to be married to such an old man.

      ‘Lizzy has assured me she will just be attending the theatre and going to dinner parties. She certainly will not be marrying until a year has passed.’

      The last statement was said more to appease Ann than because Charlotte actually believed it. If the Duke of Winterbourne’s brother asked for her hand the day she arrived back in London, she was certain Lizzy would accept, regardless of how close it was to Skeffington’s death. If they did get married, Charlotte would finally learn what the man’s name was. It was just like Lizzy to identify the man by the most prestigious thing about

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