To Charm a Naughty Countess by Theresa Romain Read Free Book Online

past the hour.”
    Caroline shot him a look, though he thought she smiled faintly. Then she began a flurry of graceful fidgeting, nudging dainty embroidered cushions, and smoothing her gown. “I am dreadfully sorry, you dear men, but I’ve an appointment I simply can’t miss. I do hate to end our time together.”
    Her mouth was not a pout, but something much better. It showed not childish disappointment, but regret. And promise.
    Michael had not known a mouth could say so much without uttering a word.
    The other men obeyed the command to depart, bowing, babbling their promises of invitation, jostling one another as they tried for one last look at their queen.
    Michael waited, and when the eddy of departing callers began to trickle away, he aimed a bow in Caroline’s direction and trod toward the door. Wondering why he had come only to lie about a foolishly named flower, then make a fool of himself in turn. He understood no more about Caroline’s offer than when he’d come.
    Whap . Something heavy and soft struck him between the shoulder blades.
    Michael turned. Caroline smiled at him and tossed a small embroidered cushion from hand to hand. Its twin lay on the floor at Michael’s feet.
    “So sorry, Wyverne,” she said. “It must have slipped from my grasp. Do stay and I shall have a maid brush your coat.”
    To Michael’s right, the last of the candied callers was thundering down the stairs to the ground floor.
    He was left alone with Caro, then. “You did that on purpose.”
    “Of course I did. Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to hit a duke with a pillow.”
    He considered. The only other duke he had known well was his father. “Not with a pillow, no.”
    Caroline retrieved her embroidered missile from the floor, then pounded it into place among a litter of similar cushions on her long settee. “Did you enjoy mingling with society again, Wyverne? I am honored—or maybe you should be honored—to have you encounter the cream of London’s bachelor society in my drawing room.”
    “They remind me of tame animals, actually. Puppies.” Michael wanted to pace and shake out his feet. Instead, he lifted each booted heel and planted them firmly on the patterned carpet.
    Rather than look insulted, Caroline grinned. “There is nothing at all wrong in playing with puppies.” Michael snorted, and Caroline laughed. “You’re not the first to call them puppies. The other was my cousin and companion, on whose judgment I always relied.”
    “Past tense?”
    “Not exactly. I still love her dearly, but she married and ran off to a quiet little town outside London. It is the one decision she made that I could ever fault—not her marriage, which was wonderful, but her decision to leave the City.” A rueful expression crossed her face. “Anyway, it’s strange that you should use the same word for my callers. If I am not careful, I may find myself asking you for advice, as I did Frances.”
    Michael’s mind tumbled with silks and slippers and lacy unmentionables. “It would hardly be appropriate for me to advise you as your lady’s companion did.”
    “Honestly, Wyverne. I wouldn’t ask you which bonnet went best with a certain frock, as I did my dear cousin. But if I wanted to know which shipping company was the most likely to guarantee me a return on my investment—”
    “East India has locked up the trade in tea for the time being. The company is England’s most certain investment right now, outside of the Funds.” He blinked. “Oh. Is that what you meant? The manly sort of advice?”
    “Well said. Yes. No one expects you to know how a woman lives in a man’s world, Wyverne, only how a man lives. Knowledge such as yours could make you a leader in society if you wished.”
    “God forbid.”
    “It needn’t go that far. But if you don’t know the answer to a question, you can always act offended that the question was put to you in the first place. No one will think less of a duke for having a poker