Читать книгу Debutantes Don't Date - Kristina O'Grady - Страница 12

Chapter Five

Coffee sprayed from Robin Higgins, Baron of Wester’s nose, across the table and onto his breakfast, soaking the newspaper he was reading. No. This cannot be, he thought. The engagement notice in the gossip column had the right man but that wasn’t his sister’s name next to it. Lord Bingham was supposed to propose to his sister: everyone knew that. Not to…Miss Grace Lancaster, whoever the hell that was! This was not right! This couldn’t be right! It had to be a misprint.

What happened after he left the ball last night? He was sure when he left Anne she was aware of the situation. He needed that money. Desperately. He should send his breakfast back. He couldn’t afford it. He couldn’t eat now anyway with the knot forming in his stomach. The creditors would be knocking on his door when they found out there would be no money coming in. He’d been able to persuade them not to break his legs for another week or two only because of his sister’s anticipated betrothal. Everyone was expecting that money.

By God, he’d even gone to his favourite club to celebrate last night. He couldn’t remember how much more money he’d lost in the gaming halls. It hadn’t seemed to matter at the time, he was confident Anne would worm a proposal from Bingham.

He brought his cup back up to his lips. Ick, the coffee had gone cold.

This wouldn’t have happened if Anne had been more forthcoming. She should have hurried Bingham along ages ago. Actually everything would have been fine if this Miss Lancaster hadn’t shown up last night. Robin fiendishly wished she had never been born. If she would only disappear back to where she came from, everything could go back the way it should be and he could once again count on that money. Hmm. Robin took a big drink of his cold coffee. Maybe he could make her disappear.

“Willis!” Robin shot to his feet and called for his footman; at least his father still paid for his servants. Robin wasn’t sure if he resented that or not. On one hand at least their wages were paid so they stayed on, but on the other hand, if his father could pay for that, surely he could spare a few bob for his own son?

“Bring me my curricle.” He was off to see Rupert Caine, the man he owed the least amount of money to but who was by far the most dangerous of the lot. Maybe he could help Miss Lancaster disappear.

Bright sunlight streamed through her window and across her face. A maid had just opened the curtains.

“Good morning, miss. Lady Harrison says it is time that you got up.”

Grace cracked an eye open and moaned. Her blood beat a tempo against her temples; it felt like little men trying to escape the inside of her skull, and her eyelids were gluey with sleep. She knew she should’ve stayed away from the champagne last night.

She sat bolt upright in her bed. Last night! She looked around the room. This was not her hotel room so that must mean that it wasn’t a dream. Oh no.

The maid kept on chattering and didn’t take any notice of the panicked sounds coming from Grace’s direction. “What is it you would like for your breakfast? I brought up some toast and tea, but if you prefer chocolate, I can fetch some.” The maid took a deep breath and opened her mouth again as if to pour more words out. Grace quickly filled the small pause before she was bombarded again.

“I would like some coffee please, if it is not too much trouble? Milk, no sugar please.” She desperately hoped that it was not too much to ask. Her head was fuzzy and she was having a hard time putting together the pieces of last night. She blushed bright red when she thought of the kiss. My God, could she really have done that? She attacked the poor man! Surely she wasn’t remembering it properly…it couldn’t have been as bad as that.

“Coffee, miss? Are you sure?” The maid gave her an odd look.

“Yes. Coffee.” Grace really tried not to growl, but from the look on the maid’s face, she didn’t hold out much hope.

Grace waited for the maid to slide out the door before she threw off the covers and jumped out of bed. Damn, she forgot to ask her name. How rude. Oh well, she had more important things to think about this morning, like how she was going to get back home.

The room she was in was beautiful…and huge. She didn’t have the energy to look around when she was shown up here late last night. The furnishings gleamed in the sunlight now shining through the window. Grace smiled at the antiques furnishing the room. They were gorgeous. The detail carved in the wood was far better than her Ikea dresser and standing wardrobe. There was really no comparison.

An army of maids must be working here to keep a spare room in such good condition to be used at the drop of a hat. Grace ran her fingers along the dresser and found not a trace of dust. She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out at what must be the back yard. The fresh snow from last night covered everything, leaving interesting lumps and bumps hiding under its softness. She tried to pick what bumps might be hedges and bushes and which ones might be bench seats.

Now that she was awake and out of bed, her head was beginning to clear, making it easier to put together the pieces from last night.

Victoria had called the doctor, as she said she would, and Grace had played her part as best she could and everything was going quite well until Grace suffered an attack of giggles when the doctor was announced. He looked like a young version of Santa Claus. His cheeks were even rosy from the cold night air. Grace half expected him to pull handmade toys from his black doctor’s bag. He instead placed a hand on her forehead and told her to shush.

The doctor had kind eyes as he examined the back of her head where she had hit it. He gave her a smile and ordered her to be put to bed for a night’s rest. Grace was able to regain some of her ‘memory’ before he left and he seemed to think she would be fully recovered in a few days.

Grace wasn’t sure what story Victoria had come up with but by the time she was safely in her room everyone seemed to accept that she had no escort or maid or clothes and wouldn’t be expecting any of those to arrive.

There was a quiet knock on the door and the maid returned with her coffee. The aroma warmed her soul even before she took a sip of the hot, rich liquid.

“Lady Harrison has sent some things for you to try on. It’s a pity all your lovely clothes were lost when you arrived. She told Hoskins what happened. It must have been so scary, travelling all that way only to arrive with nothing and nobody. It’s a miracle, that’s what it is, that you’re even here with us today.”

What had Victoria told them?

“I was sayin’ to Polly, I was, we’s lucky you’re here, what with the fire aboard the ship and all. Lucky, that’s what I says.”

There was another knock on the door and another maid came in, again, without Grace telling her to enter.

“Kamy, Cook needs you in the kitchen.” Once the first maid left the second introduced herself. “I’m Polly, I’m to be your personal maid. If there’s anything you need at all, you just ask me.”

“Oh. Thank you, Polly, that’s very kind. My name’s Grace. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Thank you, miss.” Polly turned towards the wardrobe. “Now, should we get you ready for breakfast?”