The Curse Of Beauty

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The Curse Of Beauty Page 5

by Anne Ireland


  “And I am very happy to oblige you, my lord,” she said and began to tidy her skirts as the carriage slowed down. “But I do not think we should shock poor Mrs. Macintyre any further. She looked as if she had seen a ghost the day she finally met you.”

  “Perhaps she had seen the ghost I was before I found you again,” Raphael murmured. “Her family had served at the castle for hundreds of years, and she may have heard strange tales. Very well, dearest. I shall wait patiently until you have been robed for the night. But be warned, it will not be long before that ridiculous piece of nonsense is where it belongs—on the floor beside your bed.”

  Angelina smiled and then schooled herself to be thevery model of respectability as the carriage door was opened, the steps let down, and the housekeeper stood waiting in the well-lit hall of their London home.

  “Good evening, my lady,” Mrs. Macintyre said as she welcomed her mistress. “I trust you had a satisfactory evening?” “Oh yes,” Angelina said nonchalantly and then almost giggled as she caught sight of Raphael and saw that the tail of his shirt was out of his breeches. He pulled his coat to as he saw her expressive look and bowed his head to the housekeeper.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Macintyre,” he said, and there was a gleam in his eyes. “Do not keep your mistress long this evening. She is very tired and should go to bed without delay.”

  * * * * “Yes, sir, I shall see to it,” the housekeeper said and turned away to hide her smile. Did the master really imagine that his household was in ignorance of the very happy goings-on abovestairs? They were already laying bets belowstairs as to the sex of the marquis’s first child.

  And to think that she had once been foolish enough to believe the tales her grandmother had told of a vampire in the tower of the castle. She knew for a fact that the marquis had given orders to have it torn down.

  So that just showed you couldn’t take any notice of old wives’ tales—didn’t it? For a nicer gentleman than the Marquis of Sancerre could not be found in the length and breadth of the land

 

 

 


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