“Indeed,” Leo answered and then spit one of the leaves out of his mouth. “At least seven others, a few larger than this one. Where would you like me to put them?”
“With the rubbish,” Rhoda answered firmly, before her mother could speak. The jackals had discovered she’d returned to London. “Or toss them back into the street. I really don’t care.”
As she swept out of the room, her mother’s voice followed her. “Is there anything here that is edible? I suppose we could use them in a stew…”
Justin kicked a rock as he hiked aimlessly along the sidewalks that lined Bond Street. How had he managed to find himself in this predicament? Had it only been two weeks since the course of his life so drastically changed?
He counted back the days. Indeed. Just eleven days prior, his greatest concern had been the contents of his next sermon. He’d gotten word of Percival’s death, his inherited title, traveled to London, and by pure happenstance, come across Rhododendron Mossant again.
She’d not ever truly been far from his thoughts. He’d found himself besotted with the dark-haired beauty from the first time he’d laid eyes upon her at Harold’s nuptials.
And then later at Priory Point. Where she’d transformed into a woman of character as well as beauty.
But St. John had staked his claim on her, even if it was not an honorable one.
So much had changed since then!
In a farcical turn of events, he’d nearly found himself betrothed to Miss Emily Goodnight but fortuitously managed to become betrothed to Miss Mossant instead.
It seemed all his prayers had been answered.
Which was when God decided to make matters interesting. Of course, nothing worthwhile could be come by easily.
The back of his neck itched. He hadn’t worried about finances since his mother moved them to Eden’s Court. Since he’d been a lad.
But he remembered the sensation. He remembered evenings when his mother had served them soup so watered down he’d been tempted to add grass. He remembered huddling in the dark, even a few candles beyond their means.
And he remembered all too well the manner in which his mother had originally resolved the situation.
He glanced at his watch, having just met with his man of business to no avail. He’d already wasted most of the afternoon. It was time he collected the vehicle he was borrowing from Prescott House if he was not to keep Miss Mossant waiting.
Rhododendron Mossant.His betrothed. Because damned if he was willing to lose her so easily.
He changed direction and increased his pace.
The day the Duchess of Prescott had sent her missive inviting his mother and him to come and ‘visit’ had been a blessed one indeed. Justin had not been close to her. Neither had Dev nor St. John, but perhaps she’d been closest to Harold.
Not a demonstrative person, in the least, she’d seemed too proud for affection.
But he’d be grateful to her until his dying day.
And he’d never, not in a million years, deign to put a woman in the same situation his father had done to his mother. He’d not put his cousins, his betrothed, nor his betrothed’s sisters and mother in such a situation.
Damn his eyes.
Just when he thought perhaps she might be within his reach, the expanse between them seemed to widen.
His pace quickened. Perhaps it was just as well. She’d created nothing but chaos in his life.
Chaos, passion, lust…
The memory of that kiss in the chapel nearly caused him to stumble.
He’d not known such excitement, such completion before.
He unhitched the large iron latch and opened the gate that protected the Prescott grounds from passersby. The manor set back from the street, the grounds something of a park unto themselves.
He’d been privileged to be brought up with this family. He’d known they allowed them to be there on charity, but they’d never spoken of it.
