Wicked Earl Seeks Proper Heiress by Sara Bennett Read Free Book Online

damage. In truth he’d preferred to remain an outcast.
    It had suited him.
    He had liked the simplicity of the life of an outcast and he’d enjoyed working for The Guardians—the danger and the intrigue. When that came to an end, mainly because of Mrs. Slater, he had set himself to be a perfect father and landlord, a perfect earl of Southbrook. And now all of that had come crashing down around him, too.
    “She was kind,” he said at last, knowing that his wife was kind, before things went sour. “She sang to you sometimes, before you were born. She wanted me to call you Eustace if you were a boy, or Eustacia if you were a girl. She’d be very proud of you if she could see you now.”
    Eustace’s eyes were closing. He smiled and Rufus tucked his bedclothes about him and kissed his cheek.
    “Good night,” he murmured.
    As he reached the door Eustace called out, “Will you let Uncle James stay, Papa? He’s very sorry.”
    Rufus tightened his hand on the doorknob. “We’ll see,” he said sternly.
    But he knew he was already beaten. James was very sorry for what he’d done and had made promises not to do it again, so it looked as if James would be staying. Until the next time he lost control of his demons. But he was company for Eustace, and hopefully he would distract the boy from thoughts of visiting Averil Martindale.
    The Heiress, he reminded himself, as he strode down the long corridor toward his own room. He could still feel the shape of her in his arms, smell the scent of her, and remember the way her hair tumbled about her, as if it was too rebellious to stay neatly in its pins.
    It might be interesting to further his acquaintance with Averil.
    Not, he assured himself, because of any thoughts he might have of marrying her, but because he found her interesting. And there was the mystery of the sister, Rose. That might give him something to distract his thoughts from his current troubles.
    Would she welcome his interest?
    Rufus, remembering her pink cheeks and flashing eyes, smiled. Probably not. But he was rather inclined to interfere anyway.
    A veril was dreaming.
    Dreaming of Rufus, the Earl of Southbrook.
    They were driving in a carriage through the park. Trees were sprouting new green leaves and walkers were strolling on the paths, and she kept glancing at him and smiling. He was looking very handsome, in a rakish kind of way.
    And then the scene changed and it was dark and they were running through the narrow alleys of the East End and there was someone chasing them. Rufus had hold of her hand and he was tugging her along, and then suddenly he let go and she was alone in the dark. Hiding. Frightened.
    And that was when she realized she wasn’t Averil after all. She was Rose; Rose, her lost sister.
    Averil’s eyes snapped open. There was something wet and warm on her toes. She lifted her head to stare down at the bottom of the bed and saw Hercules cleaning them for her with his large pink tongue.
    Last night she hadn’t been able to do more than take off her boots and outer clothing, before curling up under the bedclothes for sleep. She must have stuck her foot out at some point and now Hercules was performing her morning ablutions for her.
    Slowly, carefully, she moved to swing her legs to the floor. Her knee was still very sore but now it was stiff, as well, and when she looked more closely at it she could see it was puffy and swollen.
    The sharp knock on the door made her jump, and then grimace with pain. “Come in,” she called, thinking it was the maid with her washing water and morning tea.
    Instead Beth poked her head around the door, still wearing her lacy nightcap that always made Averil smile. “My dear, are you awake?” Then, seeing Hercules seated, panting on the rug by the window, “What are you doing in here, you beast? Go on, out. Out!”
    Offended, Hercules removed himself in dignified silence.
    Beth came into the bedchamber and closed the door. She was frowning, and there was