To Wed a Wild Lord by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online Page A

reference. What sort of boor trampled on someone’s grief?
    “That was beyond the pale, Chetwin. But then, you never did learn how to speak properly to a lady,” Lord Gabriel growled.
    Chetwin flicked a dismissive glance over her. “A lady doesn’t challenge gentlemen to races she never intends to run.”
    “I do intend to run it!” she said hotly. “As soon as I beat Lord Gabriel in Ealing on Friday!”
    The moment the words left her mouth, she could have kicked herself.
    “If you’ll excuse us, Miss Waverley agreed to stand up for this next dance with me,” Lord Gabriel said, and whisked her back onto the floor.
    This time the dance was a reel. Appropriate, since her mind was reeling.
    Lord Gabriel had defended her to that nasty Chetwin. And until she’d blurted it out herself, he’d kept her secret about the race, too, when he could just as easily have countered the lieutenant’s insinuations by bragging to the man about it. Given his apparent flair for the dramatic, that was rather strange.
    He caught her about the waist to dance her up the line and said, “Sorry about that, Miss Waverly. Chetwin is an arse.”
    “I agree. Why does he hate you so?”
    A muscle ticked in Lord Gabriel’s jaw. “I won a race against him in front of his entire cavalry regiment and humiliated him before the men under his command. He’s resented me ever since. That’s why he keeps badgering me about racing him at Turnham Green again.”
    “That’s no excuse for his behavior to me, ” she said before they were separated again.
    When they were together in the dance again, he drawled, “You reminded him that I beat him. That’s reason enough for him to dislike you. Why did you do that, when you purport to hate me, too?” His eyes gleamed at her as if he had drawn some spurious conclusion from that.
    She sniffed. “If anyone is to criticize you, Lord Gabriel, it’s going to be me, not some vile fool whose mission in life seems to be making trouble.”
    He laughed, and the dance separated them again.
    After that they spoke no more, but she was very aware that something had shifted between them.
    The lieutenant’s words drifted into her mind: Last time, I had to insult his mother to prod him into threading the needle. Was that really why Lord Gabriel had raced that vile fellow—because of an insult to his mother?
    It didn’t change anything, of course. But it did . . . well . . . mitigate it somewhat, since his parents had died scandalously.
    She’d heard all the rumors ages ago about the late Lord and Lady Stoneville. The official story was that Lady Stoneville had killed her husband by accident, then killed herself out of grief, but all sorts of other tales abounded. That their eldest son, the present Lord Stoneville, had murdered them for his fortune. That Lady Stoneville had killed her husband out of jealousy over one of his many indiscretions.
    No wonder Lord Gabriel had felt compelled to accept the man’s challenge.
    She frowned. How could she make excuses for him? He was a reckless fool with no sense of decency, an arrogant rogue who thought she ought to be grateful that he wanted to marry her . . . And a man who’d lost his parents in a horrific way at seven, and somehow still managed to find some joy in life.
    She glanced at him as they turned with their alternate partners in the dance. The woman he was twirling beamed up at him, and he grinned back.
    All right, so she could see how some women might find him charming. He had a way of making a woman feel she had his entire attention when she was with him.
    Every time the dance brought them back together, he smiled, and every time he did, her pulse gave a little flutter.
    Clearly she didn’t get out into society nearly enough. Her pulse had no taste in men whatsoever.
    They finished the dance, and he led her from the floor. “Since the cat is out of the bag,” he said, “what will you do about your cousin?”
    “Leave Pierce to me. I’ll meet you Friday