Mutual Consent Read Online Free PDF Page B

thoughts aloud.
    Lord Chatworth heard the barely audible admission. He moved to sit down beside her on the settee. He took hold of her hands, noting their slender bones even as he gently pried them apart. “My dear girl, your father may be unnaturally hard, but he is no ogre,” he rallied in a light tone.
    She turned her head, apparently considering him from the concealment of her veil. Dimly through the net he saw a fine-boned face, and was more than ever convinced that Miss Cribbage was indeed a young female. It relieved him of the sneaking horror that she might have been a good deal older than himself. Her fingers moved in his grasp and he released her hands at once.
    “Lord Chatworth, what hold does my father have on you?”
    The abrupt question and the bald way in which it was phrased took him off-guard. Lord Chatworth drew back, without conscious thought allowing his mouth to fall into its arrogant half-smile. “I cannot see where that concerns you, Miss Cribbage,” he said icily.
    Barbara had been given hope by his lordship’s unexpected display of pity. She was desperate that he not withdraw once more behind his haughty mantle, where he would become once more unapproachable and unreasonable. “But it does, my lord! If I am to marry you, I must know whether you can escape him.” Uncaring how he might construe her boldness, she placed an imperative hand on his sleeve. She said urgently, “Neither you nor I must allow ourselves to be trapped into circumstances of eternal dependence upon him.”
    “I see.” Lord Chatworth glanced down at her gloved fingers before his frowning gaze returned to her veiled face. “But your father informed me that you are a wealthy young lady in your own right, Miss Cribbage. I fail to understand your claim of dependence.”
    She rose hastily from the settee, once more unable to control her agitation. “My fortune has certain restrictions placed against it, my lord. I suppose my father did not inform you that I cannot touch a penny until I am wedded. Even then, I shall be barred from my portion if I marry one who does not meet with my father’s approval. If I refuse his choice of husband for me and I remain unmarried at five-and-twenty, my portion will automatically go to a nunnery in France. I will then have the choice of following it to the cloister or of making my own way in the world.”
    She stopped in her restless pacing to turn toward him. “I do not fancy entering service, my lord, so which do you recommend as the more enviable fate—that of governess or as someone’s mistress?”
    “My word,” Lord Chatworth said, stunned.
    Babs gave a small ironic laugh. “You see, Lord Chatworth, my father is indeed the ogre. He regards me of very little consequence except as a tool of sorts. Barred from polite society himself, he will go to any lengths to see his seed in the ton and thus gain a form of recognition. It was a bitter disappointment that I was not born a male. Then I could have perhaps earned a knighthood in orders or won a title by distinguishing myself in the army.”
    There was a strained note in her voice that the earl was not unfamiliar with, given his large experience with women, and he realized that Miss Cribbage was very near tears. He loathed hysterics, and in an attempt to stem any such display, he said harshly, “Do you think you could cease your nervous pacing, Miss Cribbage? I have a great dislike of dramatic females.” To his satisfaction, there was a sharp intake of breath from his visitor and her head jerked up with the straightening of her carriage.
    “I was not aware that I was boring you, my lord. Obviously I should not have come. Pray forgive me for my temerity,” Babs said icily. She swept a bare curtsy and turned toward the door. Her elbow was caught abruptly by a firm hand. She glanced up quickly at the earl, surprised that he had detained her.
    He looked down at her, his expression grown somber. “Miss Cribbage, pray be seated. I believe