The Savage Miss Saxon Read Online Free PDF Page B

himself ruefully. It had worked for a while, during which time he had learned more than he really cared to know about the estimable Harold, but now they were neatly back to square one—their coming meeting with Sir Alexander Saxon, a man whose ferocity could make Harold seem no more threatening a figure than an innocent babe in leading strings.
    “Ah, yes,” he sighed now, “we come again to the subject of marriage. I refuse to enter into a discussion of the yeas or nays of the subject—I leave the convincing you of its importance to Sir Alexander, who will doubtless make his reasons for immediate nuptials between us crystal clear—but I do believe we should talk a bit about the man himself. Sort of in the way of preparation, shall we say?”
    “There was no great love lost between him and Chas, if that’s what you mean to tell me,” Alexandra volunteered. “He may have been a bit close-mouthed on the subject, but Chas certainly lit no candles in front of a portrait of his sire. No, I expect no grand welcome—only a roof over my head until such time as I can make other arrangements for myself, arrangements that take me back across the ocean as governess to some traveling family or some such thing. This damp island of yours holds no great appeal for me.”
    “Your oft-repeated low opinion of this country will no doubt endear you to your grandfather,” the Earl put in sarcastically. Before Alexandra could launch a rebuttal, he went on, “Sir Alexander is a firm believer in the greatness of ‘this damp island.’ Indeed, his world begins and ends with this country—the far-flung colonies of the Empire being barely tolerated by the man. As for America—that ungrateful bag of malcontents who dared to throw us over—well, your father could hardly have picked a better way to insult his father than by settling there.”
    “I see. Perhaps, then, it is why Chas chose it. Is there any other subject I should avoid if I don’t wish to be shoved outside my grandfather’s door before I’ve so much as tasted his porridge?”
    Now Nicholas laughed outright. “Madam, I fear we should have to travel in this carriage all the way from John O’Groats to Land’s End to give us enough time to cover all your grandfather’s dislikes, quirks, and the like. We do, however, have barely enough time for me to give you a short primer on the man. To begin with, he has refused to recognize what century we are in, holding fast to the time of masters and vassals and the like. His domicile will more than show you what I mean so I’ll leave that for a while.
    “As to the man’s personal eccentricities—they are many and varied. Not unlike many Englishmen, he hates and despises anyone who has not been so fortunate as to be born an Englishman. That is not to say he loves his fellow countrymen—on the contrary, it is England he loves, not Englishmen. It’s just that he condescends to tolerate us.
    “As to his personal habits, with which you would do well to become familiar if you are to spend any time at all under his roof, he much resembles many English peers in the respect that he drinks like the proverbial fish. In Sir Alexander’s case, it is gin that he favors—morning, noon, and night. Also, and it would be wise to remember this, he despises anyone who will not stand up to him, while at the same time he will tear a strip off your hide if you ever dare raise your voice in his presence. It is contradictory, I know, but nevertheless true.
    “He also worships land and money. These are his gods. He won’t care a rap if you are smart as a whip or talented beyond the normal—if you have no money you are worthless.”
    “It would seem then that I should not be expecting the man to fall on my neck, overcome with joy, when I arrive at his door nearly penniless,” Alexandra cut in with a bit of temper evident in her voice. “Perhaps it would be best if you just told your coachman to turn the horses about and have an easy end to all