The Irresistible Earl. Regina Scott

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      “Be that as it may,” she said, leading her stepmother past the shops overflowing with bright fabrics, exotic scents and fine literature, “we have been discovered. We have only to explain the situation to Algernon, and I’m certain he’ll see the wisdom of escaping.”

      Mrs. Price nodded and said no more, as if she needed her breath to climb the remaining way up the hill to the Bell Inn, where they had taken rooms. Meredee was just as glad for her silence. She could not stop thinking about their meeting with Lord Allyndale.

      When Algernon had confided to her a fortnight ago in their London town house that he feared Allyndale would challenge him to a duel, the man he’d described had been a monster. “He’s completely unreasonable,” he’d fretted, pacing about the yellow silk–draped bedchamber that had been hers since she had finished her schooling. “There’s no use talking to him or begging his pardon. If he issues a challenge, I’m a dead man.”

      “But the magistrates,” she’d protested from her four-poster bed where he’d found her that night. “Surely you could go to them, explain the situation. Dueling is against the law.”

      Algernon smiled at her as if he envied her her innocence. “Dueling may be against the law, but the magistrates will turn deaf as soon as they hear who’s involved. Allyndale is too powerful. Word at White’s is that he’s already forced one fellow to flee for the Continent.”

      “But why?” Meredee asked, fisting her bedclothes, never doubting the word of those who thronged Lon don’s most famous gentlemen’s club. “Why would he seek your ruin?”

      “It doesn’t matter,” her stepbrother had replied, pausing in his pacing to meet her gaze. His deep blue eyes had been mirrors of despair. “He has taken me in dislike, and he will not rest until he’s made my life hell.”

      Meredee shivered, remembering. Lord Allyndale was obviously a man who toyed with the lives of others just for the thrill of power. She could not allow Algernon to fall into his clutches. She’d proposed the plan to flee and the place to hide, sure that the earl would soon find someone else to torment. Yet here he was, on their very doorstep!

      She had to admit she was a bit disappointed.

      She’d expected eyes that flashed with dark intentions, a face slack with dissipation, a body gross with indulgence. But Lord Allyndale was well-formed, with broad shoulders that filled his tailored coat and long legs that showed well in chamois breeches. Her father had always said that evil could hide behind a winsome smile, but she still thought some trace should be visible, if only to warn away those with the insight to look for it.

      She had looked today, but she could not see the creature Algernon feared. Lord Allyndale’s smile held a pride and love for his sister; the way his arm draped around her shoulders spoke of a desire to protect her. And the way he’d gazed into Meredee’s eyes—so sure, so deep—why it had nearly taken her breath away.

      Had she mistaken the name Algernon had uttered with such despair? Or could her stepbrother have misunderstood the earl’s intentions?

      When they reached the inn and sought out her stepbrother, she wasn’t surprised to find him still in the little whitewashed bedchamber under the eaves. While Meredee and Mrs. Price had been willing to rise early to shop and then to bathe in the sea, Algernon was only now peering into the mirror over his mahogany washstand in his shirtsleeves and scraping his lathered chin with a razor.

      “Allyndale, here?” He dropped the razor into the porcelain washbowl, heedless of the soapy water that splashed his otherwise spotless yellow pantaloons. As Meredee carefully closed the door behind her, he turned to stare at her and his mother. “Are you certain? Did he speak of me?”

      “He did not,” Mrs. Price put in. “And thank God for that!”

      Meredee could only agree. Of course, she would not have been so bold as to ask God for Algernon’s safety. God never answered her prayers for large things—her mother’s recovery from the carriage accident that had taken her life when Meredee was only eight, her father’s healing from the illness that racked his body and cut short his studies as a conchologist, even her own situation with Mrs. Price. Now she just asked for little things, like patience.

      “Lord Allyndale did not connect us with you,” Meredee told her stepbrother and explained how they had met the earl.

      When she finished, she fully expected Algernon to wipe the foam from his face and set about packing. Instead, he began pacing the little inn room, taking three strides from the multipaned window to Meredee’s side where she perched on a ladder-backed chair next to his narrow bed. It seemed her stepbrother’s mind only worked properly when propelled by the energy of his long legs.

      “But Lady Phoebe was all right?” he asked.

      Trust Algernon to worry about the pretty girl first. “I sincerely doubt she was in any danger,” Meredee assured him. “I am no hero.”

      He sent her a grin that broadened his narrow face and lit his deep blue eyes like sapphires in candlelight. “Well, you’ve been known to bail me out a time or two.”

      “And I haven’t?” Mrs. Price immediately protested.

      Algernon’s smile softened. “Certainly you have, Mother. I wonder sometimes how I manage to tie my cravat without advice from the two of you.”

      “Then listen to me now,” Mrs. Price ordered. “We should leave. It’s the only way to be certain we’re safe.”

      Meredee bit back a sigh. Her stepmother was right. But when would she get to the Yorkshire Coast again? She’d been suggesting the trip for five years, but Mrs. Price saw no need to return to the area where her second husband had met his end. Yet Meredee could only keep her promise to her father by coming here.

      “Not necessarily,” Algernon said, holding up a hand. “Regardless of how Meredee feels about the matter, Lady Phoebe clearly believes Meredee saved her life. We may be able to use that to our advantage.”

      Meredee felt as if the room had chilled and rubbed one hand along the sleeve of her blue cotton gown. “What do you mean?”

      “Yes, Algernon,” Mrs. Price demanded. “You insist we flee this fellow, at considerable inconvenience I might add, and now you wish to embrace him?”

      “Not me, Mother,” Algernon replied patiently. “Meredee.”

      “Me!” Meredee hated the squeak in her voice. Why couldn’t she have a solid voice, a commanding voice? Her voice was high and soft, like a bird chirping, and as easily ignored, just as her family ignored her now.

      “Meredee?” Mrs. Price shook her head, gray curls bouncing. “Unthinkable. I will not allow you to put her in danger. Besides, I do not know how I should get on without her.”

      As Mrs. Price was neither infirm nor forgetful, Meredee could not see herself as so indispensible. Of course, it would cost her stepmother more money if she actually had to hire a companion instead of relying on Meredee for every little thing.

      “We must all make sacrifices, Mother,” Algernon said as if agreeing with Meredee’s thoughts.

      “But exactly what sacrifices must I make?” Meredee asked.

      His СКАЧАТЬ