The Earl's Passionate Plot by Susan Gee Heino Read Free Book Online

assets. And anyone else's assets, too , if the gossips were to be believed. Particularly assets of the feminine kind.
    "It hardly speaks well of a man that he devotes himself to his assets," Miss Vandenhoff said.
    "I believe Miss Langley's point was that he is known for dealing fairly in business," the girl's mother said with a patience that bordered on the miraculous. "Fairness is a quality to be admired. It is good to hear that of him."
    "I'm sure there are a great many admirable qualities in the earl," Mamma added. "Perhaps as Miss Vandenhoff gets to know him—and as all of us do—we will see him with convivial eyes."
    " Mariah already does," Ella piped up. "I didn't notice at first, but as she pointed out a few days ago, he is at least pleasant to look at. When he smiles, at any rate, like he did tonight at dinner."
    And again all eyes were on Mariah. Poor, dear Ella. She simply didn't know when to stay silent, did she? And Mariah's cheeks, drat them, did not know when not to flame red. She would have given anything to have a reasonable excuse to go running from the room just now.
    Fortunately, Miss Vandenhoff managed to get everyone's attention back onto herself.
    "I didn't notice anything pleasant about the man's appearance," she announced. "He's far too tall and I cannot abide such thick, unruly hair. Not that I wasted time looking at him, of course."
    Miss Vandenhoff 's words made no sense. She thought the man was too tall and his waves of dark hair too thick? There could only be one explanation. No wonder Miss Vandenhoff was so difficult and rude: she was obviously a lunatic .
    It would have to be a very addled female, indeed, who could possibly not notice the chiseled line of his lordship's classical jaw, the knowing turn of his sculpted lips, the breadth of his shoulders under the elegant cut of his coat. And his eyes! Heavens, one would very nearly have to be dead —or at least have no sight of their own—to overlook the tantalizing fire that burned steadily behind his midnight dark eyes. Poor Miss Vandenhoff must have left her faculties behind in America if she were truly oblivious to all that.
    Lord Dovington might have any number of things wrong with him, but none of them had anything whatsoever to do with his appearance.
    "Please, Mabel," her mother scolded. "Have a care what you say."
    "If you'd prefer I keep my opinions to myself, Mother, I will quite gladly do so."
    The girl's impudence was insufferable. Mariah was quite shocked at it, actually. Poor Mrs. Vandenhoff seemed dreadfully uncomfortable as she could do little more here in this public setting than to beg her daughter to behave.
    " Of course I value your opinion, my dear. But we are guests here. Isn't there anything that could make you feel more charitable toward his lordship?"
    " Perhaps she would like me to ask him to arrive for dinner tomorrow night six inches shorter and balding," Mariah grumbled. "Though I've no idea what we can do about the fact that he's puffed-up and overly stiff."
    Mamma's face went ashen and Ellen gasped in horror as the words left Mariah's lips. Neither of them, however, were looking at her. No, their gaze went beyond her, toward the doorway of their comfortable drawing room.
    Mariah knew —of course—that his lordship was standing there.
     

Chapter 7
    Dovington hesitated in the doorway. My, but Miss Langley could turn a phrase. He supposed it was unfortunate that most of her best phrases seemed to be aimed at belittling him, but truly he didn't entirely mind. The look of astonishment and horror he'd read on her expression when she realized he'd overheard—twice now—had proven to be quite priceless.
    Once again, she did not let him down. Slowly, she turned to face him and the pink flush of her rosy cheeks first drained away, then flared to a raging blush that made her appear more the impulsive schoolgirl than the laced-up spinster he knew her to be. At least, that seemed to be what she wished for him to believe