Carrington said, for all the world, Laura thought, as though she were a courtesan entertaining men in her boudoir. “I put him in the library.” His voice quavered. “I am very sorry to say, your grace, that it is the Duke of Cole.” For one dreadful moment Laura thought that he was referring to Charles and had lost his faculties completely. Then she saw that the door of the library was open and Henry was standing before the fire, hands behind his back, his chest pushed out importantly, like a fluffed-up pigeon. No wonder Carrington was on edge. He had had no idea that the new duke and duchess were in Fortune’s Folly. To see his former employer again would be to bring back all the horror of Faye Cole’s incessant demands and his own breakdown. “Thank you, Carrington,” she said. “I hope, madam,” Carrington said formally, “that Mrs. Carrington and I have always served you to the utmost of our ability.” “Of course you have,” Laura said, with absolute truth. “And that there is no possibility whatsoever of our returning to Cole Court.”
What do You think about The Confessions Of A Duchess?
