Ruthless Charmer Read Online Free PDF

accident—mimicking his version of events, naturally—and then he made the unmistakable gesture for Kettering to sit.
    "No!" she cried, and grabbed the back of the empty chair as she jerked her gaze to the blackguard. His black eyes were gleaming with delight. "Merci bien, monsieur, je vous suis tres reconnaissant," he said to the footman, and then to her, "You don't understand a word, do you?"
    Her shoulders sagged. "Not many," she confessed irritably.
    He laughed then, crinkling the corners of his eyes and revealing straight, white teeth. "I always suspected you were lax in your studies," he remarked as he pulled the chair away from her and sat. Before she could respond that she was not lax in her studies, but preferred to study something more exciting than dead languages and needlework, he had turned to Herbert and spoke what sounded like flawless French.
    The poor footman, having spent the better part of the afternoon unable to communicate, responded excitedly, gesticulating toward the table and the ale and at her—undoubtedly revealing everything about her flight from la Claire. Judging by the way Kettering cast looks of amusement at her, Herbert was embellishing the whole, rather innocent story. After all, she had left Eugenie a perfectly suitable letter explaining her need to return to England, etc., etc., etc. What harm was there? Eugenie might have been gone for weeks visiting Louis's ailing aunt! Oh, but she had to leave—she had to be gone from Chateau la Claire before he returned. Before his presence dredged up all the regret and sorrow she'd felt over Phillip's death. She had explained all that to the ridiculous footman.
    Herbert abruptly collapsed against the back of his chair, exhausted. He had, apparently, finished his explanation of what they were doing in Dieppe and why his foot was wounded.
    Kettering shot her a sidelong glance. "Are you in the habit of running over all footmen, or do you reserve that for the French ones alone?" he asked casually.
    Claudia frowned at Herbert. "Well, I certainly didn't ask him to drive me, and I hardly meant to run over his foot, but. .." Wait. What was she doing? She did not owe this rogue any explanation! He was looking quite amused, and she was suddenly reminded of the many times she and Eugenie and Valerie had been called to his study to account for some misdeed. Would you care to try and explain your behavior? Or shall we move directly to your punishment?
    She looked him square in the eye. "How is it that you are now in Dieppe? Did the tide wash you up?"
    He laughed roundly at that, and though she was loath to acknowledge it, the rich sound of his laughter actually made her skin tingle. "Something like that," he said, grinning.
    "Well. It was awfully kind of you to stop by and inquire after us, but I—"
    The brow arched again. "Actually, I thought to join you."
    Oh, fine! Claudia frowned. "I don't mean to be discourteous, my lord, but I prefer not to have company presently."
    He ignored her and glanced curiously at her tankard. "Ale, Claudia? Rather pedestrian for you, isn't it?"
    "I adore ale!"
    "Really? I wouldn't have guessed."
    "Yes, indeed. I drink buckets of it every day." Oh good Lord, what a ridiculous thing to have said!
    Smiling, Kettering said something to the footman. Whatever it was, the two of them shared a belly laugh over it. "Might I inquire what you find so terribly amusing, sir?" she asked, glowering at him.
    He surprised her by suddenly leaning forward. "Why do you address me so formally, Claudia? You have called me by my Christian name since you were a girl, when you most certainly should have addressed me formally." His gaze dropped to her lips. "Don't you suppose we are acquainted well enough to dispense with the formalities?"
    No! Well. ..  maybe. Honestly, she hardly knew him well enough anymore to know what to call him. He wasn't the same man she had known in her childhood, something she realized the day he had called on her to explain in