Mad About the Earl Read Online Free PDF

Westruther.
    The mere thought of her still simmered his blood, even after all these years.
    “Must I?” He grunted. “Why?”
    “If you don’t marry her by the end of this month, the Ministry will give her to someone else, that’s why!”
    DeVere threw down a document that skimmed across Griffin’s desk. “You’ll need that.”
    Griffin glanced down at the paper. A special license with his and Rosamund’s name on it. A strange, disorienting feeling swept through him, like wind across an icy wasteland. He raised his gaze and watched his kinsman stride about the room.
    Lord deVere was a big man, accustomed to using his size and his bullish bluster to get him what he wanted. However, Griffin was even larger than his relative, so he counted among the few deVere failed to intimidate.
    Griffin forced out the words. “They may marry her to someone else with my goodwill.” He sighed and rubbed his palm over his face in a gesture of resignation. “It’s about time.”
    “What?” thundered deVere. “You have the audacity to be pleased by this? After all the scheming and scraping and bowing to Montford I had to do to arrange that bloody alliance? You’ll stand by while they give your betrothed to another man?”
    “It’s what I hoped they’d do,” Griffin muttered.
    Even he knew an honorable man didn’t throw a lady over. But who could blame Rosamund for turning elsewhere when he didn’t claim her? Or the Ministry for giving up on a marriage that would never happen and choosing her another mate? Now Griffin could cut ties with Lady Rosamund Westruther once and for all.
    And go to the Devil his own way.
    He put his index fingertip on the special license and pushed it away from him. “They’ll have another candidate in mind. They always do.”
    DeVere snorted. “Well, it won’t be young Lauderdale, mark my words, though the two of them have been going around smelling of April and May.”
    Ah, yes, he knew all about Captain Lauderdale squiring Rosamund around Town. Despite his determination not to care, he hadn’t liked that news one bit. But what right did he have to like or dislike what Lady Rosamund did? None at all. He was finished with her. He ought to be happy, or at least relieved.
    He didn’t feel either of those things. He felt as if something inside him had ripped from its moorings and been cast adrift.
    “There’s also the matter of your sister,” said deVere abruptly.
    Griffin’s head jerked up at that. Something stuck in his throat. He swallowed, trying to dislodge it. “She is well?”
    “Yes, yes, or at least, I haven’t heard anything to the contrary. It’s Malby, d’ye see.”
    Griffin’s brows drew together. “Malby? One of my grandfather’s cronies, wasn’t he? What has he to do with Jacks?”
    Astonishment showed on deVere’s face. “You mean you don’t know? How can this be?”
    Know what? Griffin held himself very still.
    “The girl’s been promised to Malby since she was in swaddling bands. Thought you knew.” DeVere pulled at his lower lip, deep in thought. “But Lady Warrington, now. She is all for marrying the gel to her boy instead. I don’t deny it’s a good match, but—”
    Anger washed over Griffin. Anger laced with desperation. “I won’t have it,” he said through gritted teeth. “I won’t let you sell Jacks off to the highest bidder.”
    His brow lowering, Lord deVere braced his hands wide apart on the desk and leaned in. “And just how do you propose to stop me? Your grandfather made me the girl’s guardian, not you.”
    Griffin forced himself to be calm. DeVere might be full of bluster, but he wasn’t completely heartless. Of course, Jacks must marry, as every woman of her situation did. But that did not mean she must wed some degenerate roué old enough to be her grandsire.
    Stalling, Griffin said, “Give her a season, at least. Can you not grant her some choice in the matter, even if it’s only among a select few?”
    DeVere took a seat on