I Love the Earl by Caroline Linden Read Free Book Online

the colonists are agitating against British rule, and the land isn’t worth a quarter what he paid for it.”
    “You’d better sell it then, and cut your losses,” she said tartly.
    He extended his arms, palms up. “I did. It took two years and cost me dearly, but I promptly invested the proceeds in a flock of Cheviot—a respectable, reliable English way for a gentleman to support himself. Very nice wool, you see. If only they could swim. And now, as you said the other night, I’m completely destitute, brought low by a cursed weed and idiotic sheep.”
    One of their neighbors in Holborn had been ruined when his warehouse burned. It could happen just as easily to an earl, she supposed. She cleared her throat. “I am very sorry for it, just as I’m sorry I lost my temper. But that doesn’t make us alike.”
    “But I want what you want, my dear,” he said softly, gliding a step closer. She tried to meet his eyes without tilting back her head, and couldn’t do it. “I want a wife to hold me in her arms at night. To give me children. To find the sort of passion and companionship that lasts a lifetime.”
    Oh goodness. She swallowed, telling herself she was insulted and outraged instead of alive with longing at the images he conjured. “Very prettily said, sir, but it won’t persuade me to marry you. I hope you didn’t expect it would. Good day.”
    His low laugh floated after her as she turned and walked away. “This wasn’t persuasion, darling,” he said. “But next time we meet . . . it will be.”

 
    C HAPTER F IVE
    R hys followed her at a leisurely pace. She was aware of his presence; twice he caught her stealing glances over her shoulder at him. Each time she immediately snapped her head forward and walked a bit faster, her spine stiff—with outrage, he presumed. Her blond curls, pinned up under an absurd little hat, bobbed sharply with each step she took, and her skirts swayed with appealing vigor. He enjoyed the sight. He liked picturing her hips swaying like that without the concealment of a hoop and petticoat. Everything about her was intriguing.
    Clyve met him at the edge of the party. Technically Rhys hadn’t been invited to this gathering, but Clyve appealed to Lady Feithe, his one-time lover, and persuaded her the notorious Earl of Dowling wouldn’t cause a stir at her party. And Rhys wouldn’t. He’d only come today to verify his initial impression of the lady, and begin his courtship if circumstances permitted. It had been a complete surprise when she came around the path alone, but a welcome one. It took only a few minutes for him to know, with an unearthly sort of certainty and calm, she was the woman he wanted. Life would never be dull with her. She had a retort to everything he said, and she made him laugh, even about the death of his sheep, a subject that invariably roused his temper whenever anyone else mentioned it.
    And to his everlasting relief, she was quite attractive. Her face lacked the soft, girlish plumpness of Lady Charlotte’s, but he had no objection to that. She was a woman, not a girl, and Rhys had always found women far more appealing than girls. She was slender and tall for a woman, with a lovely bosom very temptingly displayed today by her tightly laced bodice. He had admired her spirit the other night, but today he realized her physical charms were considerable as well.
    Yes, she was the one for him. All he had to do was persuade her he was the man for her.
    “How did you get on?” Clyve asked. “I’ve been quite beside myself with anticipation, imagining all manner of seduction.”
    “That’s my future countess. Mind your tongue.” Rhys watched her hurry through the crowd until she reached the side of her austere companion. Miss Cuthbert, he remembered, doubtless some connection of the Earl of Islington. From the safety of her dragon’s side, Miss de Lacey peered back at him once more. Rhys smiled and bowed politely. Her defiant expression faded into