The Contraband Courtship (The Arlingbys Book 2) by Alicia Quigley Read Free Book Online Page B

stables—I will speak to you about the smugglers,” she said angrily. “And only about the smugglers.”
    “I will be there,” he promised. “Perhaps I can convince you I am neither unintelligent nor ungentlemanly.”
    She shook her head. “Please, do not make the effort. It is not as though we will ever spend much time together; your opinion of me can hardly matter, and I’m sure you don’t give a fig for my opinion of you.”
    Malcolm looked down at her solemn face, and mentally kicked himself for insulting her. It was a bad way to begin, insulting the sister of the local baronet, when he had meant to show the county he could be responsible. Her poor opinion of him rankled, though he had no idea why.
    “I will be there,” he assured her. “Perhaps we can put today behind us and begin again.”
    “Perhaps,” she answered, but her tone was forbidding.
    As Malcolm bowed solemnly over her hand, Arthur approached them, his face alight with curiosity.
    “You looked lovely dancing, Helena,” he said.
    “Thank you, dear,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it. She turned to Malcolm. “Lord Wroxton, my brother, Sir Arthur Keighley.”
    “How do you do?” An easy smile came to Malcolm’s face as he shook Arthur’s hand. “We are neighbors—perhaps you would be willing to ride out with me and show me the countryside some time soon.”
    “I would be delighted.” Arthur glanced at his sister. “Though Helena has been managing the estate for some years; she should come with us.”
    “No, there is no need for that,” said Helena hastily. “You will soon be taking care of your own land; you should accompany Lord Wroxton.”
    Arthur beamed, and the two men fell into a comfortable conversation about horses. Helena stood by for a moment, inwardly fuming, and was relieved when her partner for the next dance claimed her. She looked back over her shoulder to see Malcolm laugh and clap her brother on the shoulder, and her annoyance with him only grew.
    Malcolm stayed in the ballroom for an hour, leading out Damaris and several other ladies, and Mr. Delaney manfully did his duty, dancing with both Helena and Damaris. Eventually the two men repaired to the card room, where they were found by the other gentlemen to be very pleasant, and not at all high in the instep. By the end of the evening, the general opinion of the Wicked Earl was that he was a pleasant surprise, and it was a great deal too bad that such iniquities had been visited upon him in the past.
    After the fifth person had commented to Helena how delightful Lord Wroxton appeared to be, she discovered she had a headache, and, deciding it was time to go home, looked for Arthur. He was not to be found, however, and she realized he was very likely in the card room with the earl. She contemplated pursuing him there, but she would then encounter his lordship again, an eventuality which she fervently wished to avoid.
    “Whatever are you thinking, dear? It is rare for you to be Friday-faced,” said Damaris, coming up beside her. “Is the evening not to your liking?”
    “I have a headache, I’m afraid.”
    “A headache? Or an aversion to the Wicked Earl?”
    “Both,” said Helena with a laugh, glad her friend understood her so well. “A headache caused by my aversion to Wroxton.”
    “What a pity that you do not care for him. He’s quite handsome, and he dances very well.”
    “Damaris, he not only kissed me this afternoon, he insulted me on the dance floor as well,” protested Helena. “You cannot expect me to like him.”
    “He insulted you?” asked Damaris. “He was perfectly charming to me.”
    “He—he mentioned Denby.”
    “Ah.” Damaris considered her thoughtfully. “That was rude indeed.”
    “It was,” agreed Helena.
    “Did he do this for no reason at all? He simply began to speak of Denby?”
    Helena bit her lip. “I may have implied his troubles were his own fault.”
    “Helena, you did not! The poor man has been exiled