The Earl's Wager by Rebecca Thomas Read Free Book Online

and the horses like she usually did, but she couldn’t linger at the stable because she had to prepare to meet with Grandleigh for luncheon. From her room, she’d seen his carriage pull round to the front of the house.
    She’d hoped her questions about flirting would have scared him off, but unfortunately her brazenness hadn’t appeared to work. Of course, she knew she didn’t need to flirt with someone to get them to notice her, but she’d hoped to shock him into rethinking his tutoring plan and resigning from his position before it began.
    If she had anything to do with it, she’d have Lord Grandleigh so frustrated with her that he’d quit his matchmaking position by the end of the day. Better yet, in less than an hour.
    She’d instructed Eloise to fetch her rose-colored day dress. The dress was old and too small. She didn’t even know why she’d packed it all the way to England, except a part of her loved the feeling of the worn cotton fabric against her skin, and perhaps a reminder of home would give her the confidence to thwart the earl and his tutoring agenda.
    Eloise secured the row of buttons in the back. “My lady, the dress appears to be awfully small.” It was obviously the maid’s proper way of telling her the dress showed too much cleavage, especially for a day frock, but it worked perfectly into Georgia’s plans. If he thought she needed instruction in eating and the proper use of utensils, then by God, she’d give him that, and a lot more.
    Once downstairs, she found the earl in the dining room speaking with the butler. When she approached, he immediately turned his attention to her. If she hadn’t been watching for it, she would have missed his quick glance at her cleavage before he snapped his gaze to her face. In a completely composed voice, he said, “Ah, there you are. I trust you’ve had a good morning with the horses, Miss Duvall?”
    She didn’t think for an instant that the earl cared one way or the other about her morning in the stables. Still, she couldn’t resist adding cheekily, “It went fine. Thank you for asking. How was your morning?”
    “It went well. I spent more time considering our lessons, and, well, I don’t want to overwhelm you on the first day, so I’ve instructed the kitchen staff to keep the meal simple. No courses.” Georgia noticed how his gaze moved from her face to the front of her dress, or lack thereof, but to his credit, he kept to the conversation at hand. “S-soup and biscuits. Will that be acceptable?”
    “Perfectly acceptable.” She enjoyed a private chuckle at his slight stutter and guessed it was because of her dress. “Will Oliver and Arabella be joining us?”
    “No, they’re eating at the inn in the village today.” He strode purposefully to the opposite side of the dining table. “Do you need instruction in regards to where everyone usually sits at the table, according to rank and whose household you belong to, or do you have a clear understanding of these English standards?”
    “My lord, need I remind you my mother was an Englishwoman?” She bit down on her lip, resisting the urge to smirk.
    “No, but from what Marsdale said, she died when you were quite young.”
    “I was twelve, so not quite that young.” The death of her mother, even twelve years later, still stung.
    “I was seven,” the earl said quietly.
    “I beg your pardon?” Georgia asked. “You were seven for what?”
    “When my mother passed,” he said simply.
    Georgia never expected him to speak of something so personal. English lords weren’t supposed to be so forthcoming and vulnerable. His tone and the sadness therein caused her to question her original goal of taunting him mercilessly. “I see.”
    She still wanted the man to quit this ridiculous matchmaking notion and leave her alone, but because he’d shared a small part of his past, she surprised herself by backing down a tiny bit. “Arabella may have mentioned this to me as well. You were both