If You Give a Girl a Viscount by Kieran Kramer Read Free Book Online

Otherwise, my stepmother will sabotage it, even if what I’m after is in her best interests. She’s stupid and cruel that way. Not only that, when she finds out your rank, she’ll do her best to make my stepsister your viscountess. Are you engaged?”
    “Good God, no.”
    “Well, for your own self-preservation, pretend you are.”
    Before he could agree, she turned her head toward the door just as it slammed open and three females tried to push their way through the entryway at the same time.
    One young lady was quite beautiful, with masses of black curls and delicate features. Were she in London, she’d turn many a dandy’s head at first glance. But Charlie saw right away that she knew she was striking, which led him to believe she probably had little else to recommend her. She was accompanied by another young woman who was taller than most men and as broad-shouldered as a dock worker. She had small eyes, a sour mouth, and a wide jaw, offset by tightly curled tresses of dull brown.
    The oldest of the three, obviously the stepmother, was of average height and had a handsome enough face. Charlie surmised she’d probably been a beauty not too many years ago. Her hair was the same dull brown as the homely one, but a lock of white hair that started from her crown and descended in a bold line to her left ear gave her quite the dramatic look.
    Unlike Miss Montgomery, the three of them appeared well fed. The beauty was a curvaceous pocket Venus. The other two had square torsos rounded by ample bosoms and large hips.
    “Move,” the matron snarled beneath her breath and made a motion to discreetly elbow her companions, but the movement was sloppy and obvious.
    The pretty one moved, but only after gasping in real or supposed pain at the intended jab. The giantess stood aside, a surly expression on her face. It wasn’t until all three locked gazes with him that their irritated expressions became cloyingly sweet.
    And then irritated again, once they’d a chance to take in his shabby clothes.
    “Who are you ?” the stepmother demanded in a flat London accent.
    “Yes, who are you?” The beauty looked him boldly up and down.
    The large one said, “I’ve never seen such a handsome man, even if he is dirty.”
    At that, Charlie had a difficult time keeping his face perfectly neutral. She sounded exactly like a man trying to sound like a woman in a play. Could she be a male dressed in women’s clothing?
    He peered closer at her. No. He didn’t think so. That would be too odd. But he couldn’t be entirely sure. The abundance of fabric and flounce she wore could camouflage a whole platoon.
    He made no attempt at a jovial smile but, in a herculean effort, did lift up one corner of his mouth. “Good afternoon, ladies. I’m—”
    “For all we know,” the stepmother interrupted him, “you—with your black eye and your tattered but fine clothes—could be a crazy vagabond who’s perhaps tied up or, God forbid, murdered a gentleman, stolen his breeches and coat, and arrived here intent on seducing the lady of the house into letting you stay.”
    Charlie made an immediate assumption: she was shrewd but eccentric, a dangerous combination. “Of course I’m not that sort of fellow,” he said. “But if I were, I wouldn’t tell you, would I?”
    All three ladies gasped, but the stepmother appeared—
    No. She couldn’t be excited at the idea, could she?
    “He’s Viscount Lumley, Stepmother,” explained Miss Montgomery.
    “Viscount, indeed,” the older woman said scornfully.
    “I am a viscount,” he said. “Why don’t you check DeBrett’s Peerage ? My name’s right there, and I’m rich as Croesus. Properties all over England. I’ve got a castle here in Scotland, too … somewhere near a glen.”
    “There are tens of thousands of glens!” Perdita said.
    “Hundreds of glens,” Miss Montgomery corrected her.
    Lord Lumley shrugged. “I mean to visit it someday and shear some sheep as a lark. If I ever get