An Heir of Deception by Beverley Kendall Read Free Book Online

Rutherford Manor and force the truth from those same lying lips.
    For years his feelings for her had drifted on the plane of indifference. He ceased to care where she was, what she did, and he never allowed himself to even venture near thoughts of with whom. Her return upended his long-dormant emotions. He’d never thought he’d ever feel this deeply again, whether it be in anger or love. Today she’d proven him wrong as she’d done so adroitly in the past.
    It galled him that after all these years she still had that power over him. That despite everything she’d done, she was the only woman who could turn him inside out with just her presence.
    But, he vowed, this time would be different. If the last five years had taught him anything, it was that only a fool didn’t learn from his mistakes.
    To his face and behind gloved hands and silk fans, he’d been called self-destructive, boorish and unfeeling. But they’d never accused him of being a fool and he’d make damn sure it remained that way.
    He returned to the house two hours later sweaty and hot. He was greeted by his rather anxious-looking butler, Alfred, who approached him the moment Alex stepped a dusty booted foot in the corridor leading to the main part of the house.
    Alfred’s powdered wig and severe black garb should have demanded a mien of stoicism, instead of the wringing-of-the-hands look on his face.
    “My lord, Lord Cranford is awaiting you in the withdrawing room.” Alfred had a tendency to speak as if he’d lived a century ago.
    Alex quirked a brow. “Pardon?” he asked sharply, taking a moment to digest his shock. What the hell is he doing here? He almost blurted the question, but good manners—at least the vestiges of those he still ascribed to—prevented him from doing so.
    “My lord, he was quite insistent on awaiting your return.”
    The Earl of Cranford, Lady Mary’s father, wasn’t someone Alex wished to entertain today of all days. He’d no desire to entertain a solitary soul, truth be told.
    “Please tell him I’ll be with him shortly. As you can see, I’m not fit for company,” Alex replied with a dismissive nod.
    Yes, sir,” Alfred said with a bow before he strode off.
    Twenty minutes later, Alex presented himself in the drawing room, freshly bathed and dressed from head to toe in cotton and wool in a brown as somber as his mood.
    “Ah, Cartwright,” Lord Cranford said upon his entrance, slowly rising to his feet with the help of a wooden cane, his bare hand proffered in greeting. “I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you by calling without an invitation.” His jowls quivered from the force of his smile, which stretched across a small, narrow face unbalanced by the leftward hook of his nose.
    Alex forced a smile, taking the earl’s hand in a brief handshake. “I hope you weren’t terribly inconvenienced by the wait,” he said, smoothly evading the question.
    “Think nothing of it. I passed the time comfortably. I hope you won’t mind if I sit. My knees have been paining me all day. A sure sign of rain tomorrow.” The earl renewed his place on the brushed-velvet sofa and although Alex would have preferred to stand, he followed suit and took up a seat in a wing-backed chair.
    “Can I offer you something to drink or perhaps something to eat?” Alex asked.
    Lord Cranford dismissed his offer with a negligent toss of his hand, the diamond on his signet ring glinting as it caught the sunlight pouring through the window behind him. “Your man saw to my needs. I could not eat another bite.”
    Which meant his wait had been considerable, possibly over an hour. “So to what do I owe this call, my lord?”
    The earl cleared his throat, straightened his legs with a slight wince and shot a look about the spacious drawing room before returning his gaze to Alex. “Our families have been acquainted for many years now. Why, you’ve known my Mary since she was just a child.”
    “Almost her entire twenty-one years,” Alex