I Love the Earl by Caroline Linden Read Free Book Online Page A

annoyance, and then she gave him her back once more, slipping further into the crowd of guests. He chuckled.
    “I see you’ve won her heart already.” Clyve grinned, watching the exchange. “When shall the wedding be?”
    “Idiot,” said Rhys absently. “I haven’t proposed yet.” The lady from the other night, Miss Stacpoole, had joined Miss de Lacey. Were they truly friends? They made a decidedly unusual pair: short, plump Miss Stacpoole with her frizzy red hair and unfortunate nose, and willowy Miss de Lacey with her glossy blond curls and pert pink mouth that cried out to be kissed—soon, if he had anything to say about it. “Her friend,” he said to Clyve. “You’re acquainted with her?”
    Clyve snorted. “Not at all, as you saw the other evening. I know her fiancé, though. Viscount Eccleston’s heir. Genial chap; not very bright. She shall lead him like a mule on a rope.”
    Margaret de Lacey wouldn’t lead him, but neither would she be a meek, quiet wife. Rhys foresaw a future filled with passions of all sorts, and took a long, deep breath to quiet the unexpected urge to whisk her away to begin courting her in earnest. That would be foolish. She wasn’t a girl who would be impressed by his title or easily bowled over by a little charm. She would need persuading. Pursuing. Tempting.
    “Introduce me to young Mr. Eccleston,” he said to Clyve. “I have a feeling he and I are going to be friends.”
    “T he Earl of Dowling is watching you, Margaret,” Clarissa reported in a loud whisper.
    Margaret set her teeth and led the way to the pavilion set up to shade the ladies from the sun. “Does he still have that arrogant smile on his face?”
    Clarissa craned her neck. Margaret started to tell her not to be obvious, but refrained. Lord Dowling knew they were aware of his interest. He’d been looking at her every time she happened to glance his way, which she had done an unfortunate number of times. Was he still watching her? She thought slightly better of him after their brief meeting on the path, but his parting threat to persuade her to marry him still echoed in her ears. He wanted her money, she reminded herself again, even though he looked as if he wanted something else from her entirely. Much to Margaret’s disgust, she found she wasn’t immune to the temptation when her eyes met his, so dark and intent, his wicked mouth touched with a smile that promised all sorts of pleasures. Better that Clarissa be obvious than she. Especially since Margaret really wanted to know.
    “Yes,” her friend said after a moment. “He looks quite impertinent. Good heavens, a gentleman ought to know better than to look at a lady that way in public, especially a lady he hardly knows. Of course, everyone knows he really isn’t a gentleman—the Welsh are quite, quite wild, I hear—but his rude friend ought to tell him. People will notice!”
    As if to prove Clarissa’s point, Miss Cuthbert hurried after them. “Miss de Lacey,” she said sternly, “I must ask, what occurred on your stroll? Did you meet anyone?”
    She breathed deeply to control her temper. “Why do you ask, Miss Cuthbert?”
    Her companion moved closer, eyeing Clarissa with resignation. She dropped her voice even lower. “A gentleman is staring at you with the most improper expression! And he arrived from the same direction you returned, only shortly after you!”
    “I did not have an assignation with anyone,” she said shortly. “I chanced to meet the Earl of Dowling as I walked, but our conversation was brief and unremarkable.” Except for the way he made her laugh, and the way his gaze felt like a physical touch on her skin. “I cannot help it if someone is staring at me in any manner. If it disturbs you, perhaps you should tell him to stop.”
    Miss Cuthbert grew rigid with disapproval. “It is hardly my place to do such a thing.” It was probably Francis’s place, Margaret supposed, but he wouldn’t be dragged out of the safety