Darrington 01 - Marriage Minded Lord Read Online Free PDF Page B

sounded too much the fairy tale at times. “In France, my mother was a daughter of a comte .” A whoosh of air expelled the word from her tight throat.
    Interest lit his arresting eyes. “Why not claim that titled bloodline instead of one where you’ve ended a bastard?”
    “The English, as a rule, are not overly impressed by anything French at the moment , unless it’s fashion or food. Then they manage to turn a blind eye at the atrocities committed against their countrymen at the hands of mine.”
    One corner of his mouth tilted upward. “In this you are correct. However, please reconsider your ancestry. The granddaughter of a comte is nothing to sneeze at.”
    “True, but that would provide no end of other complications to my currently complicated life. I want to make my own way in the world.” She stifled the urge to blurt out the reason why it was so important to her.
    “Stubborn in every aspect, aren’t you? Most women of my acquaintance are more than willing to grasp at any straw to further their advantage. I’m glad you’ve chosen to be different.”
    “Thank you, I think.” He’d managed to surprise her yet again.
    He chuckled, and the sound stirred her soul, planted the hope that she was better than she’d let everyone tell her. “If I may, can you name the man who fathered you?”
    Clarice looked over her shoulder at the closed door that separated her from the kitchen staff. It might have been her imagination, but she swore it grew silent behind that door, as if they listened with baited breath for her answer. She rolled her eyes . “I’d rather not say his name.” She didn’t know him well, and it would be her word against his if the rumors happened to leak into the Ton .
    “That is your prerogative, of course.” It didn’t appear he cared either way for all his expression didn’t change.
    “You think I display a lack of manners since I’m not willing to give you the information you ask for.” She frowned. “I can assure you, that’s not the case.”
    “I thought nothing of the sort. Class may divide the masses but manners shouldn’t be the determining factor of why they’re divided. In your case, manners have no bearing on the subject matter.”
    What difference did it make which class had more manners? Clarice shook her head, very much out to sea, yet without flirting, she was uncertain how to converse with a man. “It shouldn’t, yet it often is. Just look at the deplorable state of Parliament if you don’t believe me.” He was like all the rest of her supposed betters. He could care less what divided them as long as he didn’t have to take responsibility for it.
    “Oh?” His eyes glittered. “How so?”
    She sucked in a breath. The mood between them had changed. Instead of easy conversation, tension filled the air. “The Peerage and Parliament need to look out for the commoners. The divide between classes is steep and dreadful.” The longer she talked, the louder her voice became. “The poor cannot make a living, and every day it grows worse while the titled continue to throw money out as if it’s dirty wash water. To my way of thinking, not one man in government gives a fig for the people of England. As long as their bellies are full and the roof over their heads doesn’t leak and their cocks are sated, they’ll continue to waste time in pointless arguments—not for the good of the people but merely because it’s a duty they cannot escape.”
    Throughout her speech, Lord Swandon’s face reddened and his eyes roiled as she imagined an angry sea would look like. He cut her speech off with a gesture. “Enough, Miss Delacroix. In this matter, you and I are destined to be on opposite sides of opinion.”
    Belatedly, Clarice realized he probably sat in Parliament and she’d insulted him in one of the worst ways a person could. Her mouth fell slightly open. “My lord, I apologize—”
    “Don’t patronize me by apologizing for something you feel passionate