The Cheer in Charming an Earl (The Naughty Girls) by Emma Locke Read Free Book Online Page A

nagging sensation twisted her belly. Something was very wrong. Her box of biscuits weighed nothing compared to the locket she clutched in one hand; its weight felt leaden. Here she was, about to present Grantham with the special gift she’d had worked just for him, and it seemed she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. “What is he talking about? Grantham?”
    He stood and came toward her. Her feet wouldn’t move, leaving her powerless to retreat from unpleasantness she didn’t fully understand. “Miss Pearson, don’t listen to them. They’re rotters, I told you so myself. I—”
    “You hear that?” Lord Scotherby protested. “First he’s embarrassed by us, then we’re dissolutes, now we’re rotters. How do you like that?”
    “Enough!” Grantham commanded over his shoulder. He reached for her box.
    She snatched it away. As if she’d give him one of her sister’s delicious biscuits now . His gaze fell to the ribbon-tied package clutched to her breast. “Miss Pearson, I meant what I said in the nicest way. You’re far too innocent for this crowd.” Then, in a quieter voice, he added, “For me.”
    She tried to lose herself again in those honest gray eyes but she couldn’t. Even though she didn’t understand what treachery was afoot, it was clear from Lord Chelford’s distress that she’d overheard something she wasn’t meant to hear. “What am I looking at?” she whispered.
    “Blast, Grantham. Just tell her. She’s already put out with you.”
    Oh, good heavens, she wanted to be strong. She wanted to snap her head up and make fire dance in her eyes, but it was all she could do to keep from bursting into tears. Subtly, so that no one would see it, she crushed the kerchief containing the locket tightly into the palm of her hand. She never wanted Grantham to know what a silly girl she’d been when it came to him.
    “Miss Pearson,” he said, just when she was sure she was about to drop through the floor for the gravity of her humiliation, “the truth is, these gentlemen are notorious rakes.” He grimaced. “And these ladies…”
    “We’s Covent Garden nuns,” Cousin Fanny called from behind a low-burning candelabra set on the table. “Right prostitutes.”
     

 

Chapter Six

     
    GRANTHAM GLARED at Fanny. “Wot?” she replied, as if she had no notion why he might be put out with her. “I did you a feyva, I did.”
    “I was working up to it,” he ground out. Then he turned back to Miss Conley. One look at the pretty farrier’s daughter, however, and it was clear there was no good way to have broken the news. Her creamy skin had gone white. Those blue, blue eyes were round as saucers.
    Worse, they were filled with tears.
    Her crestfallen expression was a powerful reaction for a young woman whom he’d just met that afternoon. But he wouldn’t press her now, especially when he didn’t understand why he felt so disappointed to have disillusioned her.
    “P-p-p-rost-it—?” She squeezed her eyes closed. “Are they really p-prost-ti-tutes ?”
    He said nothing at first. Then he shrugged helplessly. “They are.”
    “Ohhhh,” she moaned. “I am ten times a fool.”
    He couldn’t bear to see her blame herself. Not when it was his fault for deceiving her into believing his sordid guests were respectable. He gripped her arms just above the elbows and pulled her toward him. “No, I’m sorry. I thought they could behave themselves for one blasted night.” He looked over his shoulder and scowled at his friends as he cradled her in his arms.
    Under his cheek, her hair tickled his skin. She wasn’t touching him back, but he felt like less of a bounder while holding her. But after allowing him to comfort her for several lovely seconds, she pushed against his chest. Paper wrapping tore at the corner of the box pressed between them as she struggled out of his arms. “Let me go. I have nothing to say to you.”
    Reluctantly, he released her. It probably wasn’t doing her