A Wicked Gentleman by Jane Feather Read Free Book Online Page B

matters since presumably he had charge of his wife’s affairs. But it was the lady herself who’d written to her solicitor.
    He swung down and passed the reins to Eric. “Walk them; I doubt I’ll be above twenty minutes.” That was the appropriate duration of a first call even if this was more business than social.
    He ran lightly up the steps to the front door and raised the tarnished lion’s head knocker. There was no response to his first politely discreet knock, so he tried again. This time the clang resounded in the quiet street. He tapped his whip impatiently against his boot. Somebody had to be in. Apart from the three retainers in the house that he already knew about, Lady Livia had brought women with her, a lady’s maid and presumably a companion of some description, or a nurse for the children.
    At last he heard the creak of an unoiled bolt on the far side of the door. It opened and a woman stood on the threshold regarding him with a questioning air in her piercing blue eyes. Her hair was invisible beneath a headscarf, her figure swathed in a none-too-clean apron. A smudge of dirt adorned a straight nose.
    â€œYes?” she said.
    The black cat twined itself around her ankles before leaping, tail erect, down the steps between Harry’s booted feet.
    Harry was for a moment disconcerted by the whirlwind of fur and took a step backwards to the second step. This left him looking up at the woman in the doorway, a position that for some reason he immediately resented. He stepped up again and proffered his card, saying distantly, “Viscount Bonham presents his compliments to Lady Livia Lacey.”
    Cornelia took it and read it. So this was the mysteriously eager would-be buyer. She glanced up at him. Quite attractive if one liked the lean and hungry type. A very broad, domed forehead, of the kind that usually denoted intelligence. An impression borne out by a pair of wide-apart and very deep-set green eyes. There was a cool distance in his gaze that was rather unnerving, as if he observed the world from some Olympian peak. Arrogant seemed a good description on first observation.
    Harry did not care to be kept standing on a drafty doorstep in the middle of winter by anyone, let alone a mere servant who seemed to be subjecting him to an impertinent scrutiny that unless he was much mistaken found him wanting in some respects.
    â€œMy good woman, I would be much obliged to you if you would carry my card to your mistress immediately,” he stated. “You will find that Lady Livia will recognize my name, and she will know my business. Kindly go about yours without delay.” Having issued his order, he turned his back on the woman and gazed off into the distance towards the square, still tapping his boot with his whip.
    Mistress! Good woman! Cornelia opened her mouth to protest, indignation sparking in her eyes as she stared at his insolently turned back. Then a smile touched her mouth. Viscount Bonham was in for a few mortifying surprises. “Begging your pardon, my lord,” she said humbly, “but my Lady Livia is not receiving at present.”
    â€œAh.” He turned back to her slowly, his gaze still cold, his tone crisp. “I daresay she’s resting after her journey?” He didn’t wait for confirmation, merely continued, “Present my card with my respects and inform her that I will call again tomorrow when I trust she will have recovered her strength.” He swung away, saying over his shoulder, “My business with your mistress is urgent. Convey that, if you please.”
    Cornelia stared at his retreating back, her mouth ajar at his breathtaking arrogance. What made him think Livia was so feeble she couldn’t manage a two-day journey without needing to rest? What the devil gave him the right to make any of the disparaging assumptions that had poured from his mouth in the last three or four minutes? She looked down at the card in her