Read Eulogy's Secret (The Huntley Trilogy) for Free Online Page B

latter is most fetching.”
    Lord Devlin dipped his head. “Most indebted, ma’am. Scarlet it is.”
    Eulogy averted her gaze again as he shrugged on the waistcoat.
    “I’m not usually this indecisive, you understand, but my valet made a pig’s ear of dressing me this morning and I had to start again. Won’t do. Simply won’t do.”
    A cloud travelled across his brow. But as quickly his expression darkened, it cleared again.
    “Now Miss Foster, I am busy and can spare you five minutes, no more.”
    Eulogy floundered. Her news couldn’t be hurried, it needed preparation and tact.
    “Lordship, this is a matter of great sensitivity.”
    “…and I haven’t all day.”
    “Then perhaps, might I return, when you have more time?”
    Lord Devlin frowned. “I have been uncommonly generous letting a complete stranger have an audience at all.”
    Eulogy was torn. She needed to gain his trust, but the delay was aggravating her estranged brother.
    “Well?” Lord Devlin cut an elegant silhouette as his hand rested on the bell pull. “If it was nothing after all, I’ll bid you good day.”
    She trembled. He would not admit her again. He had to know the truth… now.
    “Lord Devlin, this will come as a shock…”
    “What will?”
    “Prepare yourself. I could barely believe it at first…but on my late mother’s grave I swear it is the truth.”
    Lucien stared, as if seeing her for the first time.
    “If you claim to be pregnant then I warn you, I’ll deny everything.” He raised a brow. “Mind you, I would have remembered a face like yours.”
     “Sir,” she replied, indignantly, “have a care, I am your sister!”
    Devlin brow rose into his hair. “I beg your pardon?”
    “Sir! As God is my witness, what I say is true.” She gripped a chair back. “Sir, I have… had papers…private letters and a signed affidavit by my mother’s maid and a letter of explanation written by Lady Devlin herself.”
    Lucien Devlin whispered so low, she strained to hear. “What papers?”
    “Proof of my claim as your sister…only they were stolen…that first night I called.”
    “How very unfortunate.” Lucien’s eyes turned glacial, “You must understand. A complete stranger turns up claiming to be my sister, a sister of whom I have no knowledge, who has no provenance but claims documents were stolen. I am entitled to be skeptical.”
    “The proof was stolen,” she echoed lamely, as Devlin frowned.
    “Well, if there is nothing else?” He reached for his walking cane, the fine emerald ring on Lord Devlin’s thumb glinting in the firelight. Eulogy’s heart jumped with relief, how could she have forgotten it—Lady Devlin’s ring!
    She twisted the gold band set with turquoise and pearls from her middle finger.
    “Here,” she said, holding the ring like an offering. “This belonged to Lady Devlin…our mother. See! It’s inscribed with the date of her marriage. It was placed in trust to the woman who raised me, Mary Foster, to be given over on the event of hardship or death, to prove my identity.”
    With a disbelieving glare, Lucien snatched at the ring, turning it round so the inscription caught the light.
    “This ring,” he frowned, “proves nothing. Even if it is genuine, any light-fingered housemaid could have stolen it.” With a slight of hand he slipped the ring into his waistcoat pocket. “I have no sister.”
    “The ring, sir. Please return my ring.”
    “Your ring? Just now you claimed it to be Lady Devlin’s—in which case, as her sole surviving relative, the ring is now mine.”
    Desperate, Eulogy plunged on. “Think sir, I beg you. When you were seven years old, you remember Lady Devlin being large with child?”
    Lucien grunted. “Perhaps, but I also recall that child died at birth.”
    “No! The baby, a girl, survived. Do you remember the name of the family physician at that time?”
    “No. Why on earth would I?”
    “The doctor’s name was Foster.” She regarded him pleadingly,