All I Ever Needed by Jo Goodman Read Free Book Online

course I was watching. You are living under my roof and therefore my responsibility. How else could I be assured Eastlyn would mind the proprieties?"
    "Then you saw he was a gentleman." She turned to make her way to the kitchen belowstairs but was brought up short by her cousin's fierce grip just above her elbow. She did not try to shake him off, and neither did she look pointedly at his fingers pressing whitely into her flesh. Instead she waited him out calmly, holding his narrow, disapproving gaze until his hold eased. She would bear the imprint of this brief encounter for days, she knew. In spite of the summer heat, long sleeves would be in order. "I have promised our guest some refreshment," she said.
    "In a moment." Harold let his hand fall to his side. He worked his lower jaw back and forth as he weighed his words carefully and reined in his anger. His fingertips tingled as the blood returned. "I have no liking for losing my temper," he said. "You would do well not to provoke me, Sophia."
    There was no response that satisfied in these circumstances, at least none that she had been able to discover. It was difficult, perhaps impossible, for Harold to accept that she did not set out to nettle him. These moments of intemperance galled him because he liked to view himself—and have others view him—as a reasoned, thoughtful man. When he made decisions they were considered ones, if not considerate, and he perforce had the expectation that they would be met with agreement. His opinion on any matter was so sound, so commonsensical, he believed that others must follow it as proof of their own good judgment.
    "Pray, forgive me," she said softly, no longer meeting his gaze. Since coming to live with Harold and his family upon the death of her own father three years past, Lady Sophia had learned a certain amount of contrition was required to place the peace before them again. In most instances it was not difficult for her to do because there was so little of consequence at stake. She was not opposed to offering an apology to placate her cousin even if it attached some fault to her. "It is only that you startled me."
    Harold grunted softly, thereby communicating his acceptance of her regrets. He was a trim, but slightly built man, given to carrying himself stiffly as though this bearing might compensate for a lack of physical presence. It had pained him to be forced to observe the small drama unfolding in his own garden from a position in the house, his nose pressed to the glass like a beggar at the baker's window. "I should like an answer," he said.
    "My lord Eastlyn is waiting for one as well."
    Harold thought he heard a hint of impertinence in Sophie's tone, but he chose to let it pass for now. He had remarked to his father only last month, when the earl had made his perfunctory inquiry into Sophia's welfare, that she was a sensible female, perhaps more so than most of her sex. Biddable was how he had described her, an unexceptional companion to the viscountess, a proper influence on the children. It was no hardship to have her under his roof, he'd reported to his father, and surely Sophie would prefer the activity of London to rusticating with the earl at Tremont Park. As he had little interest in having Sophie underfoot for much longer than a single fortnight, the Earl of Tremont was easily persuaded to extend Sophie's stay in town. There was still the matter of a suitable match for her, a situation that could be more easily remedied, the earl agreed, if Sophie remained available to the London bucks.
    Which was why Viscount Dunsmore found himself so vexed by her recalcitrance in regard to the Marquess of Eastlyn's suit. Not only was her refusal to do as she was told an affront to his sensibilities, but she made him appear a poor judge of character. There was no aspect of this last that set well with Harold.
    "Please, cousin," Sophie said. "His lordship will wonder what has become of me and if I mean to return to the