The Bridal Contract (Darrington family Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

found himself in a scandalous sort of match, the second son’s name had been bandied about with tales of daring on the battlefield and courage on the sea. Eloisa clucked her tongue. Well, he did look like a dashing sea captain, with the wild hair and chin whiskers and a figure that was strong and skin that was sun-kissed. He was fit, no denying that, and he possessed a jaw strong enough to make a girl swoon—if a girl wished to think of him in romantic terms. A queer sort of thrill pinged through her lower belly. She, however, did not. Hadn’t she just told Helen she had no wish to conduct another courtship? After all, she was still loyal to Peter’s memory.
    Yet, there was that odd sensation. She hadn’t felt anything like that since she’d met Peter. With a gasp, she raised her gaze to the viscount’s. His startling blue eyes—so that was what people meant by the Darrington-blue—held a spark of interest before he folded his letter and tucked it away into a pocket of his jacket.
    “Miss Hawthorne.” The older gentleman nodded. “I’m Carruthers, the viscount’s butler. Please let me show you into the parlor. My wife has just set out tea.”
    “Follow me,” the woman said as if she’d just come out of a daze. “I apologize for the interruption of your day.”
    When Eloisa attempted to set the girl on the floor, the child clung to her like a monkey. “All right then, poppet. No need to panic,” she murmured and carried her down the hall in the direction the woman indicated. Once they arrived, and the child spied the tea tray on a low table, she wriggled on Eloisa’s hip. “Food will always soothe the most savage appetite.” She set the girl free and smiled when the beauty ran across the floor to pillage the teacakes.
    “Uh, forgive my lacks of manners,” the viscount said, breaking the horrible tension. “I am Viscount Tralsburg, but I vastly prefer Captain Darrington, or Oliver, for even that is too formal and we are not at sea.” He swept a hand toward one of the settees. “Please. Let’s talk. I’m afraid my world has experienced rather one shock after the other this morning.”
    “So I gathered.” Eloisa sat near to the tea service and smoothed her skirts. “As I said, I’m Miss Hawthorne, but you may call me Eloisa. No since standing on ceremony here in Brighton. I find it rather a waste of time.” She glanced at the viscount as he settled himself across from her. “Shall I pour?”
    “Please.” Unease filtered into his expression. He removed his eyeglasses then tucked them away into a pocket. Both Carruthers and the woman left the room on quiet feet. “I’m at a loss as to how to proceed—in everything it would seem.”
    Dear heavens, was he uncomfortable around people or was it just her presence that discomfited him? She handed him a cup of tea then poured one for herself. “The best way to begin is to start at the beginning. I assume the child is a new addition to your household?” Perhaps the girl knew the conversation would focus on her, but she came close to Eloisa, close enough to touch her skirt then leave a honey stain behind, no doubt from the pilfered cakes.
    Eloisa stifled a sigh. Well, it was only honey. It would wash out.
    “She is.” Oliver’s hand shook as he raised his tea to his lips. His brown hair looked wild and unkempt, standing up straight at intervals while a thick shock of it swept over a high brow. “Her name is Daniela. She’s four, and she, uh…” He licked his lips, swallowed heavily then said in a rush, “she’s allegedly my daughter from the mistress I kept while in Spain years ago, and no matter that it’s quite improbable, here she is.”
    “I see.” It took every bit of willpower she possessed to remain outwardly calm even as her heartbeat fluttered in a mad rush. How scandalous a mess, and for him to have brought the girl here to Brighton and their family property. Did he have no presence of mind or a sense of propriety? Her cheeks