The readings continued.
“But my sweet, biddable Dorothea—” Cambridge Sinclair fell down the steps of his carriage, rolled once, and was back on his feet, book still held aloft.
“I say, so her name is Dorothea then?” Lord Plunge said. “Very insightful of you, Lady Levermarch, to have known that.”
“He inserted the name, Plunge. Collect the few wits you have, man, and attempt to use them for the greater good,” the Duchess of Raven said.
The Sinclair twins spoke next, reading in unison much to the delight of the audience. Dimity and Gabe laughed their way through their excerpts while gazing nauseatingly into each other’s eyes, and then it was his turn. Nathan passed the book to Beth.
“But it is your turn,” she protested.
“Ladies first.”
She looked at him and then the book. He knew his eyes were daring her. He was torn between yelling at her and kissing her; thankfully he pulled his riotous anger around him tight enough to do the former.
“Come, Miss Carlow, we are waiting.”
She took the book from him with gritted teeth. Michael raised a questioning brow, but Nathan ignored it. He wanted to feel nothing for this woman. Willed himself to do so. But she was here next to him, with her lovely body and sweet scent, and she’d always been his weakness. That and the small niggle of doubt that had crept into his head that perhaps there was more to her leaving him than he’d originally thought.
“Oh, do let Mr. Michael Deville read. His voice is lovely, and I wish to hear the rest of the story from him,” Phillipa said.
“He does read well. When we were children, it was always he who read to us at night,” Nathan said to annoy Michael.
“It’s the pitch.” Zach picked up where Nathan stopped. “It doesn’t grate like some. I could listen to Michael speak all day. He would play all the different voices, changing his tone with each.” He sighed loudly. “I so miss those days.”
“Oh, indeed,” Phillipa cooed.
“Enough,” Michael hissed.
“He used to put on productions as a boy,” Gabe continued. “We would build him a stage, and he’d simply read to us for hours. The neighbors used to come and listen too.”
Phillipa now had her hands clasped to her chest and was looking at Michael like he was the sun and moon all wrapped up in a neat package just for her pleasure.
“I’m killing you,” Michael mouthed to each of his brothers. “I would not want to deprive you of the pleasure, Miss Carlow. Please continue.”
“Oh, please do it for old times’ sake, brother?” Zach said piously.
Phillipa pouted.
“For god’s sake, read, Miss Carlow!” the duchess shrieked.
“I would rather you did not roar at me if you please, Duchess,” Beth said, raising the book. “I am not a member of your staff.”
“Brava!” Dimity clapped loudly, and the duchess smiled, or at least what passed as one. She liked it when people stood up to her. The surprise to Nathan was that it had been Beth that had done so. Why had she never shown him this side of her nature?
“You must endeavor to clasp the end of my makeshift rope, my dearest Lady Nauticus. I have attached the second with a hawser knot, for your use,” she began.
“Ah, the old hawser knot, good choice,” Benjamin Hetherington said. He was seated in the middle of the circle on the grass, legs stretched before him, a bag of roasted nuts in his lap, completely at ease.
“I fear you will drop me,” Beth said in a clear, sweet voice.
“That’s hardly fair,” Lady Levermarch said. “He’s never dropped her before. I fail to see why he would start now.”
“There was that one time in book two,” Mary Blake said.
“Ah yes, the infamous Fortingall Yew tree rescue in Scotland,” Cambridge Sinclair said.
“But it was not a large drop, and she merely tweaked her ankle,” Lady Levermarch added.
