To Win a Lady's Heart (The Landon Sisters) Read Online Free PDF Page B

disadvantage.”
    “I’m Lady Bennington’s eldest daughter, Lady Grace.” And she here with her hair so unforgivably mussed. What an impression she must have been giving.
    “Ah.” The cook nodded, but no understanding lit in her features.
    The one called Agnes leaned in to whisper the rest of the information. “She’s the one he’s going to marry.”
    Grace heated. Of course they must talk. At any given moment, they probably had a more intimately detailed notion of what was going on above stairs than anyone else, including the master. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to intrude upon you.”
    She turned and almost collided with a massive bulk that had materialized behind her without a sound. Arms shot out to take her by the shoulders to keep her from stumbling off balance.
    Oh, no. First that. Now him?
    “Early riser, are you?” Amusement appeared on the earl’s face.
    Aware the kitchen staff was scrutinizing their every move, Grace’s throat went dry. It wasn’t him that had any such effect on her. At least, not that she wanted to admit to herself. “Not usually, my lord.”
    What sort of picture must she appear with her hair in such a state?
    The earl looked past her. “Two cups this morning, I think, Mrs. Larkin.”
    “I’ll have them for you in no time a’tall, my lord.”
    Grace glanced over her shoulder. The cook appeared far from perturbed by the interruption of her work. Indeed, the woman was all but outright glowing. Drop her into a dark cave and she might well have been all the light she needed to find her way out again. Grace would wager half a crown it wasn’t the cooking fires that elicited such a display.
    So strange. In groups, he was, well, the man she’d thought she’d known. In more intimate settings, he was something quite different. It seemed the earl’s effect on people was to leave a devoted following of admirers in his wake wherever he happened to tread. Why had it taken her so long to notice?
    He began leading Grace away.
    But they weren’t, as she expected, going back above stairs, but down the plain white corridor to the other side of the house.
    He disappeared into the boot room and came back holding a pair. “They’ll be large, but they’re the very smallest to choose from.”
    Without thinking, she took what he offered. They were men’s boots. No, not just men’s boots, but laborer’s boots. Rough, worn, and thoroughly creased.
    She puzzled at them. “What are these for?”
    The earl peered down to the floor. “You’re wearing stockings, aren’t you?”
    Instinctively, she curled her toes back from his appraisal.
    He looked satisfied. “Yes, good. Excellent.”
    Corbeau looked at her in expectation. He himself was dressed simply, in clothing that might give the mistaken impression the man made himself useful with what might be termed utilitarian pursuits. In the dim light, it was impossible to discern whether the fabric was a sort of indeterminate brownish or an indeterminate grayish or some middling compromise between the two.
    The careless fall of a lock of wavy hair over his forehead completed the picture incongruous to the man she knew as the steady and staid earl.
    Remembering herself, she straightened. She couldn’t be here with him—alone. Again. It would only reinforce the validity of their ridiculous engagement. “I should return to my room.”
    “There’s nobody about, my lady.” Was she mistaken, or was that a jovial gleam in his eye? “Besides, you look like a woman starved for the thrill of a little impropriety.”
    “You’re quite mistaken, I assure you.” Grace gave him another look. If she didn’t know better, she might almost accuse him of being relaxed. Were those words from the same man who turned so stiff and silent around her? “And what makes you so bold as to say such things to me?”
    “You think me bold, do you?”
    “I think you’ve done enough to my life as it is—”
    “I’m not sure that’s fair.”
    “—never mind