Lords of Desire
““If you’ll excuse me,” Motton was saying. “I have estate business to attend to.” He held out the paper. “Care to peruse thePost ?” “Thank you.” He’d rather roll the blasted paper up and hit someone with it—Miss Smyth came immediately to mind. He sat down in blessed solitude and stared at his plate. His stomach had finally alerted him to the fact that a few corners of toast might have been a better selection. He poured himself some coffee. Dawson arrived but had the good sense to remain mute, as did Wilton, who appeared not long afterward. But then Miss Smyth entered and peace exited. She was so bloody cheerful. And talking to her—trying to get a sensible answer from her about a new bedchamber—was impossible. Like trying to converse with her demented parrot or silly wee monkey. He left as soon as he could, stepping out into the fresh, raw air. It was chill and damp and reminded him of home. He headed off across the lawn, quickly lengthening his stride. He’d heard Motton had a lake some...where on his estate.MoreLess
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