The Trouble with Honor Read Online Free PDF

And I’ve not even mentioned that the current duke—Easton’s half brother, if he is to be believed—utterly detests him and forbids anyone from even mentioning his name! For heaven’s sake, Honor, he does not enjoy the privileges of his supposed paternity! Monica Hargrove will not give up the Beckington title for him, not if all of Hades freezes over.”
    “She might,” Honor stubbornly insisted. “If she were properly seduced.”
    Grace blinked. She sank down onto her chair, her hands on her knees, gaping at her sister. “What a dangerous, ridiculous idea. You must promise me you won’t do anything so entirely wretched. ”
    “Wretched!” Honor was miffed that Grace didn’t see the brilliance in her plan. “I mean him only to lure her, not compromise her! He need only make her believe there are other interests in her, and then perhaps she will want to explore an option or two before marrying Augustine. It seems quite simple and brilliant to me. Your idea is superior to that?”
    “Much,” Grace said emphatically. “If you won’t marry, then I will.”
    “Oh, and have you any offers you’ve not told me about?”
    “No,” Grace said with a sniff. “But I have some thoughts on how I might gain one.”
    “Such as?”
    “Never you mind,” Grace said. “Just promise me you won’t do anything so foolish.”
    “Very well, very well,” Honor said with an impatient flick of her hand. “I promise, ” she said dramatically, and picked up her plate again. “I’m famished.”
    In fairness, Honor had every intention of keeping her promise. In fairness, she always meant to keep her promises.
    But then she unexpectedly encountered George Easton that very afternoon.

CHAPTER THREE
    F INNEGAN, G EORGE E ASTON’S butler-cum-footman-cum-valet, had pressed George’s dark brown superfine coat, his gold-and-brown waistcoat and his dark brown neckcloth. He had hung them where George would see them: directly before the basin, blocking his sight of the mirror, of the razors and brushes and cuff links he kept there.
    Until Finnegan, George had been perfectly happy to live his life with a pair of footmen, a cook and a housekeeper, but his lover, Lady Dearing, had implored George to take Finnegan after her husband had cast the valet out. Lady Dearing had said his dismissal was an issue of austerity. George was quite familiar with austerity, as he’d been forced to befriend it on more than one occasion in his thirty-one years on this earth.
    It hadn’t been until several weeks after he’d taken him on that George learned the real reason for Finnegan’s abrupt departure: he, too, had been invited to share Lady Dearing’s bed. George had known the fair-haired vixen was a wanton, obviously, but the valet? That went beyond the pale. However, by then, George had grown accustomed to Finnegan’s ways. So George had promptly discarded his lover and kept his butler.
    He’d finished dressing when Finnegan appeared in the door of his master suite of rooms, a hat in his hand.
    “What’s that?”
    “Your hat.”
    “I can see it is my hat. Why are you bringing it to me?”
    “You’ve an appointment with Mr. Sweeney. From there, you will collect Miss Rivers and Miss Rivers at the Cochran stables. You have invited the young ladies to ride.”
    George’s eyes narrowed. “I have? And when did I extend this invitation?”
    “Last night, apparently. The Riverses’ footman brought round a note with the ladies’ delighted acceptance of the invitation.” He smiled. Or smirked. George was never quite sure.
    He didn’t remember any invitation, but then again, he had been having a bit more fun than he should have had at the Coventry House Club last night. That was a club for men like him, frequented by tradesmen and gentlemen of the ton, who, like George, had deep pockets for the gaming tables, a thirst for whiskey and an appreciation of cheroots made with American tobacco. It was the opposite of priggish, which is what he