Country Flirt Read Online Free PDF Page B

traditional furnishings. There was no time to hang the assorted swords. Four of them stood against the marble fireplace, crossed on either side of the grate. An Indian blanket was tossed over the best cut-velvet sofa; knives and brass pots were scattered at random.
    Samantha watched in amusement. “A pity you gave the stuffed cat away,” she mentioned. “Lord Howard might miss it.”
    “Bother! You’re right. He’ll certainly be asking for it. I wonder who bought it.”
    “Mrs. Armstrong,” Samantha told her.
    Before more could be said, the gentlemen came trooping into the saloon to join the ladies. Lord Howard’s rough voice was easily distinguishable above the more polite accents. “So they rode all night and were at Lob Lob Creek before morning,” he said in his carrying voice. “They got into sampans, and the prostitutes came right on board, for the Chinese are very strict about that sort of thing, you know, unlike India. It was the only place...”
    A pretty maid hustled past the group as they crossed the half, and Lord Howard’s attention was distracted. “There goes a saucy little stern if I ever saw one.” He smiled and nudged Monteith in the ribs.
    Reverend Russel wiped his brow and wondered how soon he could leave. He had never before had the job of upbraiding a millionaire for his libertine ways. It was not a chore he looked forward to with any pleasure.
    Lord Howard stopped at the doorway and looked all round the Rose Saloon. “It is just as I remember it,” he said. Then he stepped in and picked from the table a knife that Lady Monteith hadn’t found time to display more artfully. “Ah, Irene! I am happy you kept my creese safe for me. This knife nearly killed me. I kept it to remind me of my mortality. A band of banditti attacked me one night in a dark alley. I wrestled this creese from one of them and stuck it between the bleater’s ribs.”
    “Really, Lord Howard!” Mrs. Russel said weakly, and looked to her husband.
    “Self-defense,” he explained. “It was my money or him.” He strolled to the fireplace and picked up a scimitar to flail the air a moment.
    At fifty-five years, the nabob was still a handsome man. All the ladies except Mrs. Russel were struck by what a dashing figure he cut, with his weathered face and reckless manner, as he narrowly missed shattering priceless objets d’art.
    Samantha heard a low voice in her ear. “Quite a corsair!” Looking up, she saw Monteith had strolled along beside her. For perhaps the first time in her life, she hadn’t been aware of his presence when they were in the same room.
    He took up a seat beside her, and while Lord Howard performed for the ladies with the scimitar and creese, showing them how one was held in the teeth, the other in the hand, they talked.
    “Did you know what he was like, Monty? Your mother said you’d met Lord Howard in London.”
    “I was very much surprised with his manners this evening,” he assured her. “In London, he behaved rather badly, I fear.”
    “As opposed to his genteel performance here?”
    “Precisely. I shan’t be able to show my face at the Green Room at Covent Garden for another decade. A certain Mrs. Grimes took umbrage at his proposal —or do I mean proposition?”
    “Probably the latter. You did say Mrs. Grimes.”
    “There was a ring involved, at any rate. A great lump of diamond the size of an acorn. I wonder if Uncle brought his jewelry collection to the Hall with him. He showed it to me in London.”
    Lord Howard was performing a particularly lively lunge at an invisible enemy. Samantha watched, smiling, and didn’t reply. When the invisible enemy lay dead on the floor, she turned to Monteith. “What were you saying?”
    “I fear I have done Lambrook a bad turn, bringing Uncle here.”
    “Whatever about the others, / thank you, Monteith. He will be a very lively addition to our circle. Unlike yourself, he plans to make a sojourn of it. When will you be off?”
    “I