An Inadvisable Wager (The Curse of the Weatherby Ball Book 2) Eliza Lloyd (reading books for 7 year olds .TXT) đź“–
- Author: Eliza Lloyd
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She peeked around him to see piles of crates, maybe fifteen or twenty, neatly stacked against the wall and filling half the room. “What’s in them?”
“In the one I opened there were mostly books. One of the laborers found them in an upstairs room, and they moved them out here to keep them out of the way while they did all the repairs. I guess I was never curious enough to look in each room.”
“Oh, Carlow, there is treasure after all,” she said as she opened a crate by unfastening the leather straps. The smell of age and must wafted upward, but she could not immediately tell if any of the books were ruined. “I’ll have to go through all of them. This is so wonderful.” She picked up the first book. “Oh, Carlow, thank you!” She rubbed her hand over the leather, feeling her father and her past all come together with the simple touch. He was here. In the books, the rooms, the hallowed grounds.
“There’s no real space in the library yet, unless you want me to have the workers build a temporary shelf in the sitting room?”
“Please do. That would be perfect!!” She glanced at Carlow. “Really, this is almost too good to be true.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high. There might be some damage.”
“Or there might be something in addition to books. I can’t believe no one got into them or stole them.”
“I suspect the damage in the house was a deterrent to trespassers, assuming the house was completely empty. Father was here most days, though, searching for the hoard, and I was here shortly after that.”
“Whatever happened, I’m grateful.”
“Well, I leave you to your exploration.”
“Wait,” she said. Nora threw her arms about his neck and pressed her lips to his. He dropped his hands to her waist. “Thank you. For this. For so much.”
Aside from meals, Nora spent the next three days immersed in the search for memorials, anything she could remember, anything she or her father and or mother might have touched. Whenever she encountered a beautiful binding or a classic read, she put in a separate pile and took it to the house with her.
A rider came up the lane late in the afternoon. Curious, Nora left her stacks and crates to see who it was.
“Lady Carlow?” the rider said.
“Yes.”
“I have a letter from London for you.”
Carlow saved her some embarrassment when he walked out the front door. “What is it?” he said in a loud voice.
“A letter. It’s from Timothy,” she said.
Carlow hand the rider a few coins and dispatched him while Nora tore open the envelope. “Oh, no! Carlow, you aren’t going to believe this.”
“If a Blasington is involved, I will believe it as gospel truth.”
“Timothy’s married!”
“Not to Cecily Sheldrick, I hope?”
“No. I’ve never heard of her—Miss Millicent de Aramitz. Timothy says not to worry. Evidently, Miss de Aramitz is dowered with a small fortune.”
“When it rains, it pours. Miss de Aramitz’s father is the French ambassador. Likely why you’re not familiar with the family. I suppose you want to return to London?”
“We must. We have to find out what sort of trouble he’s gotten himself into.”
“I wouldn’t worry. It’s no more trouble than we got ourselves into.”
* * * * *
“Timothy,” Nora said, gritting her teeth. “What have you done?” The carriage ride home happened in a whirl of orders and then fleeing like common thieves. Rushing back to London would do no good, she knew. Her brother was already married! But he was so young. She had no idea he had this sort of impetuousness.
In Carlow’s library, her brother wore an idiotic grin, as if he had conquered the world. “I’ve made it possible to start my own life,” Timothy said.
“I don’t mean that. I mean how did this happen?”
Carlow lounged in his favorite chair, sipping at a drink. He was also smiling, enjoying another Blasington calamity, one which didn’t involve Nora.
“I rescued her from ruin. Evidently, some ton miscreant thought he’d do well to compromise Miss de Aramitz, I mean Lady Wargrove, and I stepped up to offer my services after the villain fled. I think it did have something to do with Millie’s father threatening to kill the bounder. All parties, including me, were amenable. In truth, my offer was out of my mouth before I could really think about it. She is quite lovely, you understand.”
“Lovely and rich? Well done, Wargrove,” Carlow commented. Nora flashed him an angry look. Such comments would do no good at this point.
“Oh, and she is nice, too. I mean, she is what a man looks for in a wife.”
“What is that?” Nora said.
“I should provide you a list? The event is over, and I want you to meet her and embrace her with all the love a sister should. She is part of our family now.”
“Of course, we will meet her. This isn’t about anything she’s done.”
“And I’ve done nothing other than what a gentleman would do.”
“Well, he does have you there, Nora,” Carlow said.
“Have you made Lord and Lady Fortenay aware of the grand tidings?”
“Yes, I sent a letter. Lord Carlow, I would like to know if we might spend the next two weeks with you before we leave for our honeymoon.”
“Where are you going?”
“To France. She has extensive family there.”
“Of course. Nora, you have no real objection, do you?” Carlow asked, still enjoying the dilemma.
“Real or not, my objections matter not a wit. But at least it is not Exeter’s granddaughter. I should be thankful for that.”
“Oh, I did think it necessary to advise Cecily of my changing affections.”
Nora laughed. “You are more than generous.”
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