Tender Torment by Alicia Meadowes Read Free Book Online Page A

drawing room well lighted, simply furnished and filled with fashionably
     attired guests conversing in civilized tones.
    It far exceeded Straeford’s expectations, and yet he was not pleased. An atmosphere of quiet repose did not belie the fact
     that it was a marriage mart the earl was attending and that he was both the buyer and the bought.
    Well, let’s see the merchandise and get the business settled. He did not doubt that he himself would be found suitable.
    Angus Loftus came up to his aristocratic guest, ajovial smile lighting his blunt features. “My Lord Straeford, allow me to introduce you to my family.”
    It was a large family—not only Angus’s children, but cousins, aunts, uncles, nephews, and nieces he met and whose names the
     earl scarce heard. But he did observe carefully the immediate progeny of the wealthy merchant with whom he might be forced
     into a family relationship.
    John Loftus, a lad of twenty-one, greeted Lord Straeford with a direct look that revealed none of his inner feelings. He was
     exceedingly fair, tall and wiry, and his handclasp was firm. His simple black breeches and frock coat were bare of the flowing
     laces and stiff collars so popular among the young sporting set who aspired to join the ranks of Corinthians.
    The older daughter, Marisa Loftus, shared her brother’s fair coloring and modest style, but there was a deeper intensity to
     the blue of her eyes and her blond tresses, worn in charming coils that framed her lovely face, were more honey-toned than
     flaxen. She too met the earl with a cool gaze that revealed nothing of her thoughts, though hers was a greater stake in this
     meeting.
    There was something familiar about the man, but she could not quite bring to the surface of her mind that frozen moment at
     the Inns of Court when they had briefly collided in the snow.
    It was Margaret, the younger daughter, who obviously was the scene stealer. Her flowing hair of dark brown was allowed to
     tumble about her bare shoulders in a most provocative fashion. Her blue eyes were bright and sparkling and eager to convey
     her lively interest in the handsome catch her father had snared for his daughters. It was apparent from the onset that she
     was already measuring the breadth of those wide shoulders with a proprietary air, and preparing a mental list for the wedding
     invitations.
    The family was an attractive group, the earl was relieved to discover. But that they were not of his class was uppermost in
     his mind.
    The Loftus board was another unexpected bonus. The master set an ample table and his cook was excellent. The dressed fowls
     stuffed with truffles in wine sauce weresuperb, and the earl’s wine glass was never allowed to empty of the rich, red claret that filled it.
    It was Marisa who held the earl’s attention though the younger Margaret, seated to his right, was a stunning coquette. Wherever
     she learned her maneuvers with the fan, she had learned them from an expert. And those dark-fringed eyes regarding him with
     sly satisfaction were nothing new to him. He had met that look on the faces of ambitious females in the past, but he did little
     more than nod occasionally to her animated attempts to draw him out. Instead he studied Marisa Loftus, seated at the foot
     of the table, with unconcealed interest until his attention was distracted by the mention of General Seton.
    “… General Seton’s fiasco. Just goes to show the army don’t know what it’s doing if you ask me.” A shrunken little fox of
     a man with darting eyes peered maliciously beneath bushy brows at the assembled table. “Win one day and lose the next. Can’t
     depend on ‘em, I say.”
    No one else dared speak out with Straeford present.
    “Must be something wrong when a ragged band of heathens can get the upper hand and send our ruddy soldiers scurrying for cover,
     eh? What d’ye say, Denton?” He flung a challenge to a red-faced young man across from him who dived into his dinner