A Gentleman Says "I Do" Read Online Free PDF

father angry or even mildly upset. He would not be hurried or interrupted when he was writing or doing anything else. If a fanciful notion struck him, he would take off on one of his “idle loafings,” as he liked to refer to trips, saying only that he had to follow his muse.
    One glance at Mr. Brentwood told her he was a far different man from her blithe father. Clearly, Mr. Brentwood was arrogant, authoritative, and impatient. She couldn’t imagine he would ever shirk a duty. And she was certain she’d never met a man as intense, challenging, or as maddening as he.
    Now she wished she hadn’t turned in the other two installments of A Tale of Three Gentlemen to Mr. Frederick. But she had. So the only thing that could be done now was to go to The Daily Herald and ask the man to give them back to her.
    Trying to appear more relaxed, Catalina leaned against the settee and smiled at Mr. Brentwood. “You are not a very good gambler, sir.”
    The edges of his eyes narrowed, and he bent toward her again. In a suspicious tone, he asked, “I’ll admit, you have me curious. I’ll take the bait you’ve thrown out and ask the obvious question. Why do you say that?”
    “The first thing is because you wear your feelings on your face.”
    He gave her an appreciative nod. “It’s true my anger showed when I entered your house. Reading that travesty of a story and then spending a few hours trying to find out where Sir Phillip lived proved extremely frustrating for me today, not to mention my unsatisfactory conversation with Mrs. Wardyworth when I arrived.”
    She smiled. “I do believe you had her in a dither when I walked into the room.”
    He gave her a relaxed smile as he said, “The feeling was quite mutual, I assure you.”
    “Are you always so impatient with servants?”
    He took his time answering her. “I’ve never had a reason to be until today.”
    Catalina picked up her cup and sipped her tea while she watched him over the rim. Mrs. Wardyworth was difficult at times, but Catalina would never admit that to Mr. Brentwood.
    “You gave me one reason why you think I’m not a good gambler,” Mr. Brentwood said. “I’m curious. Do you have another?”
    “Yes,” she said and nodded. “You laid all your cards on the table for me to see.”
    He gave her a comfortable grin and said, “That’s a low blow to a man who considers himself a fairly good gambler.”
    “Well, you know what they say about ‘if the cap fits.’”
    A short burst of derisive laughter was his only answer. He was much too sure of himself.
    She lifted her eyebrows a little and said, “You do realize now that I know what you want with my father, when he returns I can tell him to avoid you at all costs and save him from your temper.”
    “Please do that, Miss Crisp,” Mr. Brentwood said, keeping his gaze on her lips. “That way at least, Sir Phillip won’t be able to say he didn’t have fair warning of my intentions. I will not allow him to slander my family’s good name again for the sake of a few laughs from a sordid story.”
    If only Mr. Brentwood knew it wasn’t for laughs or recognition for her father that she finished the story but for the sake of their livelihood. As it was, she constantly received letters demanding payments from her father’s tailor, her aunt’s apothecary, the milliner, and countless others. She lived in fear that one day everyone would know they were always one step away from destitution.
    “The name Brentwood was never mentioned in the story,” she felt compelled to say.
    “It didn’t have to be,” he said with defensive resolve. “How many sets of adult twins have come to London in the last year and have an older brother who is a viscount?”
    “I believe the older brother was an earl in the story.”
    “You’re splitting hairs, Miss Crisp,” he said, his tone and demeanor turning less tolerant than before.
    “Not in the least,” she added. “Furthermore, there was never anything scandalous