Mad About the Earl Read Online Free PDF Page A

moment.”
    Montford’s brows drew together over Lady Warrington’s disclosure. Marriage between cousins occurred all the time, but it was a practice of which he did not approve. Just look at her ladyship’s rodent-like features. A clear advertisement against inbreeding if ever there was one.
    Besides, Lady Jacqueline deVere had been betrothed to Lord Malby from the cradle, if his memory served correctly. The Ministry had not been notified of any alteration to that plan.
    “Am I to gather from this that the longstanding betrothal between Lady Jacqueline and Lord Malby is at an end?” he inquired with a glance at deVere.
    “Oh!” scoffed Lady Warrington. “ That abomination was the old earl’s doing. My nephew will not be guided by his grandsire’s wishes, you may be sure.”
    “But I am the girl’s guardian, not Griffin,” rumbled Oliver, Lord deVere. “ I say whom she marries, madam. And it will not be your namby-pamby son!”
    Lady Warrington stared at deVere, openmouthed with astonishment.
    Montford intervened. “Perhaps we should adjourn this discussion until the parties can come up with a more … cogent proposal to put to the meeting.”
    He glanced at the chairman, who obediently took his cue. The meeting proceeded to a close without further incident. Afterward, the duke accompanied Lord deVere down to his carriage.
    “One wonders how you propose to bring off Tregarth’s marriage to my ward, deVere,” Montford murmured, drawing on his gloves. His words made puffs of steam in the crisp wintry air. “Clearly, now that the old earl is dead, your protégé has developed cold feet.”
    DeVere jammed his hat on his head. “Cold feet be damned! The boy’s promised to your Lady Rosamund. And a damned lucky Devil he is.”
    DeVere’s eyes warmed, presumably in appreciation of Rosamund’s beauty. Montford hoped he would not have the appalling taste to express his admiration.
    A vain hope. “Never set eyes on a tastier filly,” rumbled deVere. “Not in all my days. If I weren’t leg-shackled myself—”
    Repressing a shudder, Montford held up a hand. “We will leave Lady Rosamund’s indisputable charms out of this discussion. The question is, can you bring young Griffin up to scratch? I’m aware of the difficulties he faces, but enough is enough, deVere. If you don’t deliver me a groom by next meeting, I shall be obliged to bow to Arden’s importunities and put Lady Rosamund back on the Marriage Mart.”
    DeVere scowled. “That bloody woman!”
    Montford shrugged. “If not Arden, it would be someone else. This betrothal has dragged on for far too long.” He cocked his head. “What ails the fellow?”
    DeVere grunted. “You heard about that business with the music master?”
    “Yes, but hasn’t that been laid to rest? Besides, it’s hardly an excuse for not marrying Rosamund.” Montford raised his brows. “Oh, you’re not implying he has refrained from matrimony out of some misguided sense of honor, are you?”
    DeVere rumbled a denial, then struck his palm with his fist. “Ah, blister it! Who knows? That music master’s death caused him no end of trouble. Besides, there was no love lost between Griffin and the old earl. Maybe he’s reluctant to bend to the old man’s wishes now that he’s cocked up his toes.”
    Montford considered. If the marriage of Tregarth’s sister were also up for discussion, that could prove a valuable bargaining chip to use against Griffin.
    He raised his hand to dismiss the waiting carriage. “My dear sir. Walk with me, if you will. I have a notion that I think might answer.”
    *   *   *
     
    Lord deVere burst into Griffin’s library at Pendon Place. “Dammit, Griffin, you must marry that Westruther chit, once and for all.”
    Griffin put his pen back in its stand and sat back from his desk. Almost any interruption of his attempts to wrestle his accounts books into submission was a welcome respite. But not if it meant discussing Lady Rosamund