The Game and the Governess by Kate Noble Read Free Book Online Page A

No Sir Nathan. Instead, they faced down an array of housemaids and kitchen help, and of course, ladies. Some young ladies. And a motherly type—the chaperone, if he ventured to guess. There were ribbons flying and ruffles being ruffled as the ladies shifted and preened and maneuvered their way into an assembly of some kind. A presentation.
    Oh, hell. They were all here for him.
    Contrary to what Turner thought, Ned was not so blunt-headed as to think that women everywhere traipsed after him on the promise of his natural charm and cheer. He knew very well that being an earl made him a prize to young debutantes and their mothers alike. He knew the difference between being looked at as a good dinner companion and being salivated over as a possible husband. But while Turner avoided anything that did not result in him making an extra penny to put toward his falling-down mill, Ned saw no reason to be short or rude with those who were after him for his title or fortune. Indeed, he doubted he could manage Turner’s level of rudeness if he tried. He would rather be a happy dinner partner to whomever he sat next to, regardless of their motives.
    And he would be again.
    But no, wait—he thought with dawning glee—these ladies weren’t preening for him , they were here for the Earl of Ashby. Whose signet ring at present rested onthe finger of poor, unsuspecting, dull, sour-faced John Turner.
    Weren’t they in for a surprise?
    And once Turner’s bad humor had turned everyone but the most fervent fortune hunters off his scent, there would be all these ladies for him to charm into winning this ridiculous bet.
    Ned almost smiled. Almost let his face split into a wide grin and chuckled. But then Turner, who rode a half step ahead of him, glanced behind him.
    “Well, here’s the first real test.”
    “What do you mean? The governess wasn’t test enough for you?”
    “The governess has never met you before. The Widcoates have.”
    Ned’s eyebrow went up. Of course! He had met the Widcoates many times in his youth, and surely the past sixteen years had not wrought so much of a change upon him that he was unknowable. And if it turned out he was not unknowable . . .
    “The terms are that if anyone recognizes me, then you forfeit and I win, correct?”
    “No—the terms are that if anyone recognizes you without your interference, then I forfeit.” Turner gave him a sidelong look. “No trickery with the cards. Keep both hands on the table.”
    “I don’t need trickery, John,” Ned retorted. “Remember—I have luck.”
    Turner jerked his head back to stare directly ahead again, at all those waiting girls. “And I sincerely hope it does not desert you.”
    A few steps later, they were within hailing distance.And Lady Widcoate, it seemed, was not one to miss her cue.
    “Lord Ashby! Lord Ashby! How marvelous to see you again!” The lady was rounder than Ned remembered but the pinched pink cheeks were the same, as were the tight curls at her temples and the tuffet of a cap on her head—at least a decade out of style, she would be laughed out of Almack’s. She waved heartily and stepped forward as Turner dismounted from Abandon. Ned followed suit. A groom— Ha! So there was a man here! —moved quickly to take Abandon’s reins. The stallion whinnied and danced. Although Turner paid no attention to it, annoyingly.
    “Lady Widcoate?” Turner said jovially— Turner, jovial? —as he made a quick bow to Lady Widcoate’s low curtsy. “Is that you? I swear you haven’t changed a lick. It’s like stepping back in time.”
    Lady Widcoate’s cheeks grew pinker with pleasure.
    “My lord, what flattery! Meanwhile, you have changed a great deal.”
    “Oh?” Ned piped up behind Turner. “Do you think so?”
    As much as Ned wanted to see Turner fail—or rather, as much as he wanted to prove to Turner that he would win—Ned couldn’t help thinking that it would be so much easier if he was recognized, and this whole farce