How Not To Marry An Earl. Christine Merrill

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Two

      Charity Strickland’s day was not going to plan.

      It had been bad enough to climb into the chimney and realise the niche she was looking for was just out of reach. To be discovered doing so had been even worse. Mr Potts was proving to be annoyingly clever, giving no indication that he believed her story about an open flue. He had pretended to, of course. But she suspected he was only toying with her, hoping to worm some piece of information out of her that could be reported to his master.

      So far, it appeared that the new Earl meant to do just as she hoped he would, remain in London to perform his duties in Parliament. Should he suddenly decide to take an interest in her welfare, there was no telling what he might consider suitable for her future.

      Whatever it was, she doubted it had anything to do with what she preferred for herself. As the youngest of three sisters, she was fed up with being dictated to by people who assumed they knew what was best for her. It had taken months to get the rest of the family out of the way so she might have peace to work. The last thing she needed was a stranger asserting his God-given right to control her because his fortunate birth had made him head of the family.

      The season did not end until July and it was barely March. It would take only a few more weeks to accomplish her own plan. If the new Earl of Comstock kept to the business of governing, as he ought to do, she’d be gone long before he arrived, with enough money to set herself up for life in a manner that suited her.

      But Mr Potts might prove to be just as annoying as the man who’d hired him. Though he had no right to order her around, so far he was proving to be a first-rate sneak. One had only to look at the dog’s reaction to him to know that he was not to be trusted. Pepper’s hackles had been raised from the moment that the auditor arrived. As they left the dower house, he was dancing along between them, biting at the man’s boot heels as if hoping to scare him away.

      To Mr Pott’s credit, he had not given in to impulse and kicked at the dog. Perhaps he was not irredeemable. Or perhaps he had better sense than to abuse a pet belonging to a peer in full sight of a member of the family.

      When they arrived at his horse, he stepped clear of the little black and white dog and mounted, offering a hand to her to help her into the saddle in front of him.

      She smiled at him, wishing for not the first time that she’d inherited any of her sisters’ natural charm. ‘I could not possibly go without Pepper. I would not want him to become lost.’

      Potts looked down at the little dog with obvious disgust. ‘In my experience, animals like this are surprisingly hard to lose.’

      ‘But what if this time is the exception? He might be set upon by some wild beast.’

      ‘You have wolves roaming so close to the house?’

      ‘No,’ she admitted.

      ‘And I am told there are no bears left in England. What else can there be?’

      ‘A hawk. Or perhaps an eagle.’

      He sighed. ‘Next you will be telling me England has daylight owls.’ He held out a hand. ‘Give him to me.’

      She scooped the dog up and offered him.

      Potts took him by the scruff of the neck, nimbly dodging the snapping jaws and dropped him into the leather bag at the side of his saddle. The dog disappeared for a moment, like a swimmer beneath a wave. Then his head poked out from under the flap, offering something that looked rather like a canine grin.

      ‘There.’ Potts held out a hand. ‘And now, you.’

      Gingerly, she offered her own hand and he pulled her up. He seemed to exert no strength at all, settling her on to the saddle in front of him, to sit on one hip. Then his arms took the reins on either side of her waist, holding her in place as they set off.

      Though he showed no signs of noticing it, it was a surprisingly intimate arrangement. Perhaps such behaviour was common in America. Or perhaps she was not pretty enough to move him. He handled the horse as easily as if he was riding alone.

      But for her, it was strangely disquieting. Though she did not normally dwell on the appearances of the men around her, it was hard not to notice this one. The arms that wrapped around her were long, as were the legs that brushed against her skirts. He must be well over six feet. He was not precisely gaunt, but there was an angular quality about his frame that seemed to carry to his face. The planes of his cheeks were sharp, as was the line of his jaw. His pale skin might have given another man an aristocratic air, but on him it seemed more scholarly than aloof, as if his studies kept him from the sun.

      This attracted her more than his fine features or the shock of dark hair shading his brow. He looked like someone who might be content to hole up in a library. Though the muscles she could feel in the limbs surrounding her did not come from inactivity, he looked like a kindred spirit.

      But it did not really matter what he looked like, or how he had come to be so. Men, especially ones that looked the way this one did, never gave such scrutiny to her. She turned her head and looked resolutely forward at the house they were approaching.

      ‘Comstock Manor,’ he said, stating the obvious. But there was a tone beneath the words that sounded not so much impressed as stunned.

      ‘You did not think it would be so large,’ she said.

      ‘I was told. But I could not believe it was true.’

      ‘It represents everything that is wrong with the family,’ she said. ‘Something that started as a good idea but grew out of hand until it was no longer possible to manage or afford.’

      ‘No wonder there has been trouble finding someone to record the contents. Who would want to take on such a job?’

      ‘We have lost more valuables than most people own,’ she said, speaking quite close to the truth. ‘Though most of them are not actually gone. They are just sitting in one of the forty rooms, waiting to be rediscovered.’

      She felt something quicken in him at the mention of this surplus of material wealth, a faint, covetous quivering of his nerves. Then he relaxed again, as if afraid that she might have noticed his interest. ‘As a member of the family, I would think that you would be in a position to know where some of those things are.’

      ‘I might be,’ she said, turning back to blink at him in what she hoped was an innocent way. ‘The Earl will never be able to have an accurate accounting of them if I do not help. And I doubt you will be able to learn the lay of the place in whatever time he has allotted for the job.’

      The horse pulled up short.

      ‘How would I…? I mean, you are right that there is no way for me to do this job without help. But the Earl would not know one way or the other, if I got it wrong, would he?’

      He had not even crossed the threshold and he was already giving up. Or did he mean to collect full pay for a slapdash job? His reasons did not matter. Carelessness, laziness or moral flexibility would all suit equally well as a reason for his departure.

      ‘He СКАЧАТЬ