Read On a Long Ago Night for Free Online

read the paper. Everything would be all right
    now. Her papa would deal with everything. She could go
    back to the country and forget all about—
    The Duke of Pyneham lifted his head and gazed on
    her with a bright, benign smile. "This is wonderful news,
    my dear!"
    Honoria sat down. That there was no chair nearby
    had no effect on her action. She could not stand, therefore
    she sat, landing with a hard thud on the Turkey carpet
    before the desk. She could not draw breath and lights
    danced before her eyes. "Wha-wha-wha…?"
    Her father helped her up and to a seat near the
    hearth. "Good gracious, child," he asked worriedly.
    "What's gotten into you in the last twenty-four hours?"
    She did not know what had gotten into her, either.
    She was behaving most uncharacteristically. She had
    shown her emotions in public, put on a display of temper,
    and cried and raged and shouted. And for what? A pair of
    worthless men. It had to stop, and it would. Right now.
    Honoria put her hand over her heart and drew in a
    deep breath. She would be calm. She would not allow the
    man—any man—to rob her of her self-control! No, and
    no, not ever again. She was poised, self-possessed, cool,
    and impervious, above such petty, foolish things as
    emotions. Upset? Her? Never.
    "I think, sir," she told him, "that I should ring for
    tea." But when she rose from her chair, it was not to
    summon the butler as she'd intended. She walked first to
    the desk, then to the hearth, where she tossed the letter
    onto the fire.
    Honoria gave a small shake of her head. "Oh, dear,"
    she murmured very softly. "Another dramatic gesture."
    She blushed hotly at the memory of slapping poor Mr.
    Marbury, and told herself the warmth that burned through
    her was from being so close to the fire. She did not want
    to think about Mr. Marbury. Not about what they had
    done last night; certainly not about what they had done—
    "That was another man, another place." She took
    another one of those deep, calming breaths, which did not
    help steady her racing pulse at all. She tried to make
    herself believe that Marbury and Moresco were not one
    and the same, because it was illogical to believe
    otherwise. Logic dictated that she deny the sensory
    information of her response to his voice, his size, his
    eyes, his bold touch. There was an obvious superficial
    resemblance between two men of mixed Spanish and
    English heritage, and no more. Some odd flight of her
    imagination had supplied other resemblances that did not
    exist in reality. "Imagination is so inconvenient."
    "What did you say, my dear?" Her father sounded
    calm, rational. Good.
    "Tea," she said, and turned from the fire. This time
    she was able to accomplish the
    sensible, undramatic task she set for herself. Once
    the butler left to fetch refreshments she took her seat once
    more, folded her hands primly in her lap, and looked
    calmly at her father. "Surely I was mistaken in what I
    thought Your Grace said about Captain Russell. It seemed
    to me that you were happy to learn that I had received a
    communication from someone you once referred to as the
    'scum of the earth' and 'that base, vile maggot.'" Honoria
    took a certain amount of pleasure in speaking the insults,
    though they were mild compared to her thoughts on
    Derrick Russell's antecedents, habits, and place in the
    order of creation.
    "My opinion of the man is colored by your feelings
    toward him, my dear," he responded with equal calm. He
    leaned forward in his chair, gazing on her with earnest,
    loving concern. "I know what the man meant to you once.
    What you sacrificed—"
    "Do you?" she interrupted. "I sincerely doubt that,
    Father." I pray you do not, Father , she whispered to
    herself.

    She clasped Derrick's hand tightly as she knelt beside
    him. His flesh was hot with fever. He did not appear to be
    awake, but he turned his head toward her and called out,
    "Honoria!"
    She was thankful that he called her by her pet name.
    She had never much liked