The Husband List -2 by Victoria Alexander Read Free Book Online Page B

didn’t know if she could fall in love again. Richard didn’t doubt his ability to win the lady’s favors, but there was too much at stake for both of them to risk failure.
    It had been a long time since the Earl of Shelbrooke had cut a wide swath through the hearts of the ladies of London. Richard now had no patience for frivolous pursuits and no desire for anything beyond meaningless physical encounters easily obtained and just as easily forgotten. Even so, surely the skills that had enhanced his amorous reputation in his younger days lingered, a bit tarnished, perhaps, from lack of use but there nonetheless.
    The outrageous thought that had occurred to him last night still hovered in the back of his mind, yet it was little more than a vague idea and no doubt a poor one at that. Being the rogue he’d once been would not only topple him from her list but change her mind about his suitability as a husband. Richard heaved a heartfelt sigh. Besides, he suspected there was no turning back. His character had come too far, and in truth he regarded who and what he’d been with a certain amount of regret and more than a touch of disgust.
    Gillian was no innocent straight from the schoolroom, no on-the-shelf maiden eager for a husband. She would not fall willingly into his embrace under any circumstances. Gillian may well agree to a true marriage out of desire for her legacy, but the idea of a reluctant bride twisted Richard’s stomach. How to convince her otherwise would take a great deal of careful consideration.
    Absently, he selected a large, prepared canvas from a stack in the corner and placed it on the easel. What he needed was a plan.
    In the meantime, he also needed to work. Nothing helped him think as well as immersion in a new painting, as if the act of creation left a more practical part of his mind free to ponder whatever problem was at hand. And he did need the money. At the moment, he was not substantially closer to six hundred thousand pounds, eight ships, more or less, and a great deal of land in America.
    Richard stared at the blank canvas and considered his next project. Landscapes were all the rage, and he would have no trouble selling one. Yet for some odd reason he preferred to do a portrait right now.
    And odder still, only one face came to mind.
    Chapter 4
    The incessant pounding echoed through the house.
    Gillian stumbled down the front stairway, trying to grip the banister with one hand and hold her wrapper together with the other. Who on earth could be demanding entrance at this hour of the night? She peered through the shadows to the circle of light cast by a candle held by her butler at the front entry.
    Wilkins fumbled with the door and muttered dire pronunciations she couldn’t quite make out but had heard before through the years. For the most part, Wilkins was well trained and performed his duties admirably. Unless, of course, he was out of favor with Mrs. Wilkins, Gillian’s cook. Or had indulged in one too many glasses of sherry. Or was awakened in the middle of the night.
    He yanked the door open with a vengeance, although no wider than necessary, then appeared to remember his position, stiffening his posture in preparation to look down his nose at whoever had the temerity to rouse them all from a sound sleep. Wilkins was extremely good at looking down his nose and made up in haughtiness what he lacked in stature. The man barely came up to her chin and resembled nothing so much as a stout, arrogant elf.
    Gillian paused halfway down the stairs and waited to see if her attention was needed or if she could return to bed. This could be nothing more than a late-night reveler mistaking her door for another. Wilkins’s voice was low, his tone perfectly proper, although she couldn’t catch his words.
    He turned from the barely opened door and gazed up at her. “My lady, you have a caller.”
    “A caller? At this hour?”
    “Shall I tell him you’re not receiving guests?” Wilkins said as if