I Love the Earl Read Online Free PDF

again.”
    “I would wholeheartedly repay your compliment, sir, if we had ever met before,” said Clarissa, much to Margaret’s hidden glee.
    A flicker of consternation crossed the fellow’s face. Margaret could tell he was a Society fribble of the highest order, possibly even one of what Miss Cuthbert disparagingly called “those macaronis,” from his glittering shoe buckles to the exquisite lace that tumbled over his hands at his cuffs. The embroidery on his waistcoat alone put her beautiful new gown to shame. “Have we not met? Surely I could not have imagined it. I distinctly recall congratulating Mr. Eccleston on his betrothal to you, and toasting your upcoming marriage.”
    “Oh!” exclaimed Clarissa. “You know Freddie? Well, that is near enough to knowing me. How do you do, sir?”
    “Very well,” said the man with a mixture of relief and amusement. “I am Lord Clyveden. But I have brought my friend, Lord Dowling, who most particularly wished to be presented to you and your companion.”
    Lord Dowling bowed. There was no froth of lace spilling from his cuffs and his shoe buckles were plain, but he drew the eye far more than his glamorous friend. “Good evening,” he said in a slightly raspy voice edged with a trace of accent.
    It irked Margaret how much she liked his voice. He even sounded as she imagined a Barbary pirate would sound, just before he ravished a maiden. She lifted her chin and nodded regally to him. Miss Cuthbert would probably expire in despair that she hadn’t risen and given a proper curtsey to an earl, but she was beyond caring. And where was Miss Cuthbert anyway? How long did it take to summon the bloody carriage?
    “May I present Miss Margaret de Lacey,” Clarissa was saying. “It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord. Are you also friends with Freddie?”
    His gaze hadn’t left Margaret. “I have not the honor, Miss Stacpoole,” he replied. “I confess, I shamelessly forced Clyveden to introduce me so I might beg a dance of Miss de Lacey.”
    Her temper, never meek or quiescent, overshot its bounds. He thought she would fall into his penniless grip like an overripe plum. Ten years ago he wouldn’t have noticed her if she’d flung herself naked in front of him. For the first time she realized Francis’s money had reversed the usual positions: Before, she was the item for sale by marriage, and now she was the buyer. She looked him up and down, as one might inspect a horse for sale. “Completely destitute, are you?” she asked coolly.
    His face froze, his dark eyes blank with surprise. Lord Clyveden made a strange choking sound. Even Clarissa’s eyes widened. Margaret didn’t care, and over Lord Dowling’s shoulder, she saw Miss Cuthbert returning at last, a worried set to her grim features. She got to her feet, righteously ready to cut one vulture off before he got started. “You’re the third earl to ask me to dance tonight. One trampled my shoes and the other hardly knew the steps, so I don’t think I shall risk a third try. I hear you lost all your sheep, which is very sad for the sheep, but I don’t consider myself a suitable replacement for any flock. My brother told me I shall have my choice of suitors, and I think it only sporting to tell you now that I shan’t choose you, no matter how many people you coerce into presuming upon slight acquaintances with my friends for an introduction. In fact, I have recently decided I won’t marry at all this year, or even next, so unless you have a reserve supply of goats or cows to tide you through a very long and arduous courtship, I suggest you seek your dancing partners among the more available heiresses.”
    She turned to her new friend, who regarded her with slack-jawed awe. “Good evening, Clarissa. I hope to see you again soon.” And she turned on her heel and walked away, waving Miss Cuthbert toward the door as she went.
    Rhys watched her go. He hadn’t said more than “Good evening” to