The Seduction of Sara by Karen Hawkins Read Free Book Online Page B

She was a conundrum, a flash of fire, unexpected and unknown.
    Perhaps Henri had been right—he needed a challenge. But not one that could destroy his chance to reenter society. The evening suddenly seemed flat. Taking one last look at Lady Carrington, Nick turned on his heel and left.

Chapter 3
    H ibberton Hall had gone too long without a master. The roof leaked in a dozen places, fallen bricks blocked five of the twelve chimneys, and black mold splotched the once elegantly decorated walls in almost every room. All told, the rundown manor was a rotten board away from collapsing.
    An ordinary man would have balked at the idea of attempting to return the manor to its former beauty. Fortunately for all concerned, the Earl of Bridgeton was not an ordinary man. Hibberton Hall belonged to Nick and he would see it restored, regardless of the cost, personal or otherwise.
    The way Parkington had allowed the Hall to fall into such disrepair was revolting, Nick thought ashe stood in the center of the library. This room was in better condition than most of the others, though far from perfect. The floor needed staining, the heavy oak paneling had warped from the constant dampness that pervaded the house, and the fine plasterwork was threaded with tiny cracks. Nick stifled an impatient sigh and crossed to look out the window. “Pratt, we will need some men skilled in plaster work.”
    â€œYes, my lord,” his longtime solicitor said from where he sat at the desk, making a list of needed repairs. His fine, tiny writing already covered three entire sheets.
    Nick lifted the latch and swung the window open, the hinges protesting loudly. Cold winter air invaded the room, dispelling the moldy odor and clearing his head. Despite almost a century of neglect, Hibberton Hall remained an impressive site. The main part of the house, built during Tudor times, contained a large banquet hall that had been converted to a ballroom almost a hundred years ago by one enterprising owner.
    The rest of the Hall represented a succession of owners who built with little consideration to the style of the existing house. Strangely, the resulting architectural hodgepodge was both pleasing and intriguing.
    â€œMy lord?” Mr. Pratt’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts. “I’ve prepared a list of materials needed for the repair of the east wing.”
    Nick nodded, not bothering to examine the paper. His solicitor was more than thorough. “Giveit to Ledbetter. Make a note that we will need more men, too. I want as much of the repairs completed as possible before spring.”
    â€œYes, my lord. I will have him scour the countryside for skilled laborers.”
    â€œWe’ll need a steady supply of lumber, as well. Perhaps we should ship some in from France.”
    â€œI’ll make inquiries.” The solicitor adjusted his spectacles, his gray eyes almost obscured by the thick lenses. “Mylord, how…how are you today?”
    Jaw tense, Nick recognized the reference to his headaches. Ah, the joys of old family retainers—yet another aspect of settled life that he had not missed. He caught Pratt’s concerned gaze and managed to say, “My headaches are less frequent here than in France.”
    â€œExcellent, my lord. Perhaps they will fade away altogether.”
    â€œPerhaps,” he said, more to end the conversation than because he agreed. He stirred restlessly and pushed aside the edge of the new window hangings, his fingers lingering on the velvet curtains. The lush, sensual feel sparked a sudden vision of Lady Carrington as she had appeared three nights before. Small and delicate, with thick black hair and creamy white skin, she would make a stunning mistress. Every diminutive inch of her was quality—exactly the type of woman to fit a setting like Hibberton Hall. Exactly the kind of woman who would fit Nick’s new station in life. All he had to do was win her to his bed.
    A brief knock