A Regency Lord's Command: The Disappearing Duchess / The Mysterious Lord Marlowe. Anne HerriesЧитать онлайн книгу.
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ANNE HERRIES lives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature and sometimes puts a little into her books, although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment and to give pleasure to her readers. Anne is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize. She invites readers to contact her on her website: www.lindasole.co.uk.
A Regency Lord’s Command
The Disappearing Duchess
The Mysterious Lord Marlowe
Anne Herries
Table of Contents
Anne Herries
Justin, Duke of Avonlea, looked round at the sea of faces. They were all staring at him expectantly, believing that he was about to make a speech of welcome and cut the cake with his bride. His mouth was dry, his chest tight with a kind of suspended agony, as he struggled to come to terms with what was seemingly going on.
Lucinda, his beautiful bride, had gone. She had left him almost immediately after the wedding ceremony. They’d returned from the church together in the carriage to his beautiful home, where the lavish reception was being held. She’d excused herself to him, saying that the flounce on her wedding gown was torn.
‘I shall be no more than ten minutes, Avonlea,’ she’d said with that shy smile he found so attractive. ‘Please make my excuses to our guests. I shall join you as soon as I can.’
‘Of course, my love.’ He’d taken her hand to kiss the palm. ‘You look beautiful, Lucinda. Have I told you how much I adore you?’
‘Yes, Justin, several times. I am very fond of you, too,’ she’d said, smiled and left him to run lightly up the stairs.
That was more than an hour ago and since then no one had seen anything of her. Concerned after thirty minutes or so that she was keeping their guests waiting unduly, he’d gone up to her rooms to ask what was causing the delay. He had found only her maid, Alice.
‘Where is your mistress?’ he asked. ‘We must not keep the guests waiting any longer.’
‘I have not seen Lady Avonlea since you left the church, your Grace.’
‘But she came directly up to have the flounce mended on her wedding gown. How can you not have seen her?’
‘I have been waiting for her,’ the maid said and looked nervous. ‘Truly, she has not been here, sir.’
‘Lucinda told me her gown was torn…’ He looked around the room, which had been recently refurbished in the colours his young wife loved: creams, various shades of rose and gold, blending perfectly. No expense had been spared and he had imagined her being happy in the luxury he had provided. ‘Is there no sign of her gown?