Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] Read Online Free PDF Page B

them in all their glory.
    "Not at this moment, no. Is there some way I can help you, my lord?"
    He pulled himself together and gave her one of his best smiles. "Yes, in fact there is. I would like to talk to you about it. I see a stone over there well shaped for sitting, if it would not be too cold."
    After the briefest hesitation she walked toward it. "Not at all. I usually do sit here while the children play. They call it my throne."
    She sat on the lump of granite, gathering her black bombazine skirts neatly together. With permission he sat beside her. There was not a lot of room but she made no silly protest about them sitting so close. He liked her more by the moment.
    She turned to look at him with polite expectation.
    "You are going to find this a little strange..."
    "And even shocking," she added quizzically.
    A sense of humor as well. "I hope not too much so." He still could not quite see how to open the subject.
    There was distinct amusement in her eyes. "I'm likely to be so overwhelmed with curiosity, my lord, that I'll take a fit of the vapors, and scare you to death. Have pity, please."
    He laughed. "One of the first lessons a fledgling diplomat learns, Mrs. Rossiter, is how to handle a lady with the vapors." Even so, he couldn't imagine this woman in a state of collapse. For a moment he wondered if he had the wrong lady and was about to propose to the vicar's wife or such. But then he remembered that she had admitted to being the poet's widow.
    He braced himself. "Despite my diplomatic background, Mrs. Rossiter, I can see no fancy way to dress this up that would serve any purpose at all." He summoned up an expression of sober worthiness. "The simple truth is that I would like to marry you."
    She paled. In a second she was up and standing, looking away. "Oh, good heavens," she said. The tone was pure exasperation.
    It was not a response he had expected. He rose to his feet, too. "It may be precipitate, ma'am, but it is an honest offer."
    She turned back, eyes snapping. "Honest! When you don't know anything about the woman you are proposing to take to wife?"
    "I know enough."
    "Do you indeed? I can't imagine how. Well, so do I know enough. The answer, sir, is no."
    She was marching away. Leander hurried after, feeling more like a green boy than he had since he was sixteen, when he'd tried to kiss a daughter of the Duke de Ferrugino and had his face soundly slapped. If the Rogues ever heard of this they'd die laughing.
    He caught up to her. "Mrs. Rossiter. Please listen to me! I can offer you all kinds of advantages."
    She whirled around in a swirl of black skirts to face him almost nose to nose. "Name one. And no, I do not need any more odes to my eyes!"
    He stared at her. Those eyes were so magnificently filled with rage that he was tempted to try. But he said, "That's as well. I wouldn't know where to start."
    She took a step back. "You are not a poet?"
    He extended his hands. "Diplomat. Linguist. Soldier. Earl. No odes on any subject, I give you my word."
    "Earl?" she asked dazedly.
    He bowed, thinking that at last they were making progress. "Leander Knollis, at your service, ma'am. Earl of Charrington, of Temple Knollis in Somerset."
    "Temple Knollis?" she queried faintly, showing the awe with which he was all too familiar. At the moment, however, he'd take any advantage he could get.
    "Yes. There's a London house, too, and a hunting box. An estate in Sussex, and a place in Cumberland I've never seen."
    Damnation. I sound like the veriest mushroom listing off my properties like this.
    Perhaps she thought the same. Color flushed her cheeks. "I don't know what game you are playing, sir, but I think it unconscionable of you to amuse yourself at my expense. Bastian! Rosie!" she called out. "Come along. We must leave."
    The children ran over. Bastian took one look at his mother and turned on Leander pugnaciously.
    Leander backed off. "Don't fight me, lad. I'd have to let you win or your mother will never marry