Chance the Winds of Fortune by Laurie McBain Read Free Book Online

Lawton, Earl of Rendale, staggered from the pond, his fine coat dripping cold water and a tenacious lily pad wrapped around his silk-stockinged calf. His expression was at first comically disbelieving, but his face quickly became suffused with anger as he heard the incredible sound of laughter coming from his companion.
    Lady Rhea Claire Dominick stood safely back from the water, her shoulders shaking with unbridled mirth. She knew better than to insult him further by offering assistance. Poor Wesley, he was really quite livid, Rhea Claire thought, biting her lip to contain her laughter.
    â€œRhea Claire, how dare you laugh. If I could get my hands on that little devil, I-I’d wring his blasted neck!” the much-affronted earl expostulated as he stepped carefully from the slippery lily pond. Then he stood facing her as he shook his leg, trying to free it from the clinging lily pad. “Damned impertinence, beggin’ your pardon. A switch oughta be taken to that young man’s breeches,” he complained, then added with a tightening of his lips, “and I would appreciate it, Rhea Claire, if you would stop that infernal laughter.”
    â€œOh, Wesley,” Rhea Claire said breathlessly, her laughter almost escaping her, “you do look so ridiculous standing there shaking your leg like a drenched rabbit. Forgive me, but I can’t help but laugh.”
    â€œI do not find this in the least bit amus—”
    â€œLord Robin! Lord Robin, ye get yeself back here this instant. Right this instant! I’m a-tellin’ ye fer the first and last time, Lord Robin,” yelled the head gardener as he charged through the broken hedge, his fist raised impotently. Then he nearly tipped over, coming to a sudden standstill, his mouth gaping open as he stared around at the destruction of his glorious gardens. His eyes widened perceptibly when they finally caught sight of the muddied, bedraggled figure of the Earl of Rendale.
    â€œLord help us,” he muttered, doffing his cap. Then his gaze traveled on to the young beauty standing next to the fuming earl, and the grizzled gardener’s lips quivered briefly when he heard her muffled laughter. “Pardon me, Lady Rhea, but did ye happen to see which way young Lord Robin was headed in?”
    Rhea Claire pointed toward the trampled border of the path. “I’m sorry, Saunders, but I’m afraid it is only too evident.”
    Saunders nodded, a long-suffering look crossing his weathered features. “Aye, m’lady, I was afeared he was headed in the direction of me prized Gilly flowers, and Her Grace’s favorite at that. Oh, Lordie, but there’s going to be heads a-rollin’ for this day’s work,” he prophesied as he started to take his leave. “I don’t know what’s to be happening, for I knows His Grace is going to be madder’n hell, and Her Grace, bless her, will most likely take the side of young Lord Robin. Lord help us,” he repeated beneath his breath again and again as he made his way along the path of destruction like a hound on the scent.
    â€œImpertinent fellow,” Lord Rendale remarked. “I’d not have him speaking so disrespectfully of the duke and duchess in my presence if I were you, Rhea Claire. The man oughta be taught his proper place,” he added peevishly, glancing down at his ruined breeches.
    Lady Rhea Claire Dominick lifted a delicately arched eyebrow in a perfect imitation of her father. “Camareigh,” she began in a tone of cold hauteur, “is his home, Wesley. He was gardener here thirty years before I was even born. His grandfather was head gardener here, and his grandfather before him, and I suspect he knows more about my family than I shall ever learn. He happens to be a wonderful man—and loyal,” she added. “He would probably give his life for my mother, so I’ll not have you stand here criticizing him.”
    â€œYou are