Yours Sincerely,
Lady Georgiana Hayden
She choseto ignore his rudeness.Her perfectly proper and impeccably formal message sounded inoffensive, but he knew better.She wants something.Blasted aristocrat.What the hell does she want?
Using one hand to push himself up, he swayed a bit before he staggered toward the hearth.He held one corner of the vellum to the fire and let it burn in his hand.The final piece dropped into the fireplace at the last possible moment.
“Will there be a reply?”Harley’s long-suffering voice exhibited neither respect nor fear of reprimand.Their long relationship made the first unnecessary and the second unlikely.“The man that brought it here is waiting.”
“No reply.”
Silence, apart from the low rumble of Jamie Heyworth’s drunken slumber, lay thick in the room; firelight flickered in the hearth; shadows embraced the corners.Andrew felt Harley’s eyes fixed on his back, but he stared, without wavering, into the fire.Neither man moved.Mallet looked back over his shoulder, annoyed.
“That will be all.If Lady Georgiana wishes a reply she will be disappointed.”
He turned his damaged face back to the fire and studied the silent embers.He still heard no movement behind him.
“Harley, leave me.Now.”With an exasperated sigh, Harley did what Andrew told him.
What is that blasted woman up to now?
