Marrying Harriet by MC Beaton Read Free Book Online Page B

where you could sleep off your debauch in peace. You were in a disgusting condition.’
    ‘I am sorry, Miss Brown,’ said Lord Charles ruefully.
    ‘You must be aware that the taking of strong drink is a sign of weakness, not of manhood. Strong men can face the day without resource to alcohol.’
    ‘I now have the headache,’ said Lord Charles crossly, ‘and you are making it worse by sitting there giving me a jaw-me-dead. I have already apologized. Please be lady-like enough to accept my apology.’
    ‘Very well,’ said Harriet. ‘We shall talk about your sad propensity to drink on another occasion.’
    Lord Charles briefly closed his eyes. There will not be another occasion if I can help it, he thought bleakly.
    ‘The reason I wish you sober and not drunk is because I am in need of your help,’ said Harriet.
    ‘Indeed?’ he drawled. ‘Marriage, I suppose.’
    ‘Yes, but not mine. It is time Miss Effy and Miss Amy Tribble were married.’
    He blinked. ‘It is time both of ’em were dead,’ he pointed out.
    ‘Nonsense. They have two friends, a Mr Haddon and a Mr Randolph.’ She took out her notebook again. ‘See! I will write the names down for you so that you do not forget. I wish you to seek out these gentlemen and somehow put the idea of marriage into their minds.’
    ‘I know Haddon by sight. Nabob, isn’t he? Rich as Golden Ball. Put the idea of marriage in his mind, and he’ll up and choose himself a pretty young widow.’
    ‘I do not think so,’ said Harriet primly. ‘Both gentlemen spend a great deal of time with the sisters. The Tribbles should not have to worry about work at their age.’
    ‘My capable Miss Brown. If both gentlemen are such constant visitors, would it not be easier for you yourself to drop a word in their bachelor ears?’
    ‘It is better that such an idea should come from a man,’ said Harriet. ‘All men, no matter how kind and good, have a deep contempt for women’s ideas.’
    His head ached and Miss Brown’s dictatorial manner was irritating him greatly. ‘Do you not think, Miss Brown,’ he said acidly, ‘that I might have more important things to do with my time than play Cupid to a couple of elderly females?’
    ‘You have nothing more important to do with your time,’ said Harriet evenly. ‘Frequenting Cyprians and addling your brains with drink are worthless pastimes.’
    Lord Charles searched his mind in an effort to bring up some worthy pastime but could not think of one. He eyed Harriet in a calculating way. He wondered what it would be like to knock Miss Brown off that self-made pedestal of hers. And then, what else had he to do? He was bored. He was growing increasingly angry with Jack Perkins, feeling he had been manipulated into getting drunk. Since his return from the wars, he had lazily gone along with what Jack wanted. Certainly, the man had saved his life, but he, Lord Charles Marsham, was weary of having noisy nights with grey days tinged with guilt to follow. He would not go so far as to seduce Miss Brown, but it would be amusing to make her fall in love with him.
    He smiled into her eyes and raised her gloved hand and kissed it. Harriet hung her head and blushed. Good, thought Lord Charles. First move to me.
    He is angry with me, thought Harriet, confused and sad. I do believe he plans to make me fall in love with him to teach me a lesson. Then she brightened. All she had to do was pretend to be increasingly fond of him, and while the game amused him, he might do something for the Tribbles.
    She smiled up at him shyly. Her eyelashes were very long, he noticed, and that unfashionably generous mouth of hers was just made for kissing. ‘I shall be glad to be of help to you,’ said Lord Charles. ‘Have we not been out for some time? Will the Misses Tribble not be worried about you?’
    ‘I sent them a note,’ said Harriet, ‘while you were asleep. I am afraid I robbed you of a shilling, and then another shilling for the toll.’
    ‘Do you