4th Viscount Redbrooke ~10~ The following morning, Geoffrey rose and dressed, with his resolve to court and wed Lady Beatrice strengthened. He’d already focused enough of his too important time upon the unsuitable Miss Stone. Determination fueled his strides as he marched up the front steps of the Duke of Somerset’s townhouse, and rapped on the door. As he waited for the butler, he turned out and studied the busy street and carriages with a direct intensity that caused the passing gentlemen and ladies to politely avert their attention. He spun around as the door opened, and held out his calling card. “To see Lady Beatrice.” Not her cousin. Not the delectable, troublesome American miss. The expressionless servant bowed, and motioned for him to enter. Geoffrey handed his cloak and hat over to the butler and followed him as he led him to Lady Beatrice. Each step that carried him closer to Lady Beatrice echoed with the words his father had tried to ingrain into him.
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