Chapter One #2
She’d met his lordship at last night’s evening meal when he’d been seated across from her. She’d noticed his attractiveness but her first impression was that he was uptight and disagreeable.
‘Where were you off to so quickly?’ he asked.
She blinked. ‘Pardon?’
His hands dropped to his sides as he regarded her, and she felt the loss of the heat and the strength of his touch.
‘You were almost running,’ he pointed out.
Her pulse leapt as she considered her new predicament. Being waylaid by Ralston could only delay her plans. She must engage with Sir Simon before the man seduced his next target. She wanted…needed…that female to be her. She shifted to the side to glimpse around the Earl.
Damnation! Sir Simon had left the group by the refreshment table. Where on earth had he gone?
‘Miss?’
She grew aware of Lord Ralston watching her, waiting for her response. Frustration welled in her chest. His tall broad-shouldered frame stood in her way. On any other occasion, she would exchange pleasantries and send him off to fetch her a glass of lemonade.
‘I’m fine, thank you. If you hadn’t barged into me, I’d be better.’ The words slipped out before she could stop them. She bit her lip, knowing she shouldn’t have spoken her thoughts out loud. Her mother often berated her for speaking her mind and called it an unladylike weakness.
Judging from Lord Ralston’s pinched eyebrows and levelled gaze, she suspected he would agree with her mother.
‘Miss Magarian,’ he said, his voice low and level, ‘is there a reason for your haste?’
The Earl of Ralston remembered her. During last night’s dinner, she had pointed out to one of her sisters that creamed onions were bad for one’s digestion. He’d overheard from where he’d sat across the table and disagreed.
‘No reason, my lord.’ She stepped back. ‘If you will please excuse me, I’ll be on my way.’
Reaching out, he brushed her arm to halt her. She was aware of the slight touch, and a trickle of warmth ran down her arm. ‘Perhaps you’ll join us at the lake tomorrow.’
Was he asking her? Would he offer to row her across the lake like gentlemen preferred to do with ladies at these house parties?
She had done nothing to encourage him. Perhaps he was just being polite.
Meeting his gaze, her heart raced again.
His eyes were surrounded by long dark lashes. She hadn’t noticed before.
Good grief. What was she doing thinking of his eyelashes? She had another goal in mind. A vitally important one. ‘Other than boating at the lake, will the men be fishing?’ she asked.
Ralston shrugged a big shoulder. ‘I assume so.’
‘Then no. The lake is overfished. It would be best if the fish are left a season to spawn.’
He released a coarse laugh. ‘Is that so?’
‘It’s a scientific fact that—’ She spotted Sir Simon out of the corner of her eye. He spoke with Lady Melrose, a pretty widow. The woman’s head tilted to the side, and she smiled invitingly at him.
Oh, no. Nora needed to swap places with the widow. Now.
‘What about hunting?’
Nora’s attention snapped back to the Earl, and she wrinkled her nose. ‘I have no objection to hunting other than I think it terribly unfair. A dozen men and their hounds against one lone fox. Those odds are just unmanly.’
‘Unmanly?’ he said in a choked voice. ‘Perhaps you are only interested in other activities. Such as letter writing or needlepoint.’
‘Heavens no.’ Both sounded torturous to Nora.
‘So, no fishing or hunting. Or ladies’ activities.’
Sir Simon and Lady Melrose had halted by the open French doors.
Would they slip outside for a rendezvous?
Nora’s urgency to speak with the rake tripled.
‘I wouldn’t say no to everything, my lord,’ she said as her eyes followed Sir Simon.
‘Just fish properly and have all your men and dogs hunt something other than a poor lone fox.’
He whistled through his teeth. ‘You are quite opinionated.’
She turned her attention to the Earl. She couldn’t help but compare the two men.
Ralston was ruggedly attractive; the complete opposite of Sir Simon’s fair looks and slim build.
No doubt ladies would find the Earl a catch, but she wasn’t looking for a husband.
Rather, she needed to escape his presence as expeditiously as possible.
She pursed her lips as she gazed up at him.
‘You are rarely challenged, are you, Lord Ralston?’
‘Not often. And never by a lady.’
‘That must be exhausting. And boring.’
He arched a dark eyebrow. ‘Oh? And why is that?’
‘To always be told you’re right, even when you know you are not.’
He stiffened as if she’d struck him. Nora took advantage of his shock. ‘Pardon me, Lord Ralston. I must be on my way.’
Turning her back, she walked away to find a blackguard.
Devon Hawkley, the Earl of Ralston, stood stunned as he watched Miss Nora Magarian disappear into the crowd. His reaction to her sharp words was surprising since not much took him off guard. He also prided himself on his self-control.
He’d met the lady only briefly on the first day of the house party.
She was beautiful with auburn hair, green eyes that were tilt-tipped at the corners and a lush mouth.
She’d had three seasons and remained unmarried, and he wondered as to the reason.
His first clue was during last night’s dinner when she’d criticized the creamed onions, which he happened to enjoy.
His second encounter was much more telling.
His attempt at polite conversation had miserably failed. What lady argued about fishing, for goodness’ sake? And defending a fox?
Instinct had told him she was searching for another, and he was a nuisance in her way, which had irked him.
And if he were being truthful to himself, he found it insulting.
He was an earl, after all, a very wealthy one, and he often had to flee from overeager debutantes and their title-seeking mamas.
He shouldn’t give Nora’s rude behavior another thought. She was the type of woman he avoided. He had political aspirations in the House of Lords and pursuing an obstinate woman like her wouldn’t further his efforts.
What he needed was a lady of impeccable breeding, one who could trace her lineage back to Queen Elizabeth, and whose connections could help him attain his political goals.
He was working on a bill to require that children be at least ten years old to be employed at mills.
He had another bill in mind that would require at least two years of education for every child.
But he understood that he must work on one at a time, and each proposed bill would be an uphill battle.
His main rival at the House, Lord Weber, was his fiercest opponent, and Ralston knew he would need allies, both political and social.
He was also aware he needed an heir for the continuation of the earldom.
He wasn’t a cold man, and his future wife would have his title, his wealth and his influence in Society.
He’d respect and admire her. As for love… his past was not to be forgotten.
He had once been engaged to a woman he loved.
But that had ended in devastation and heartbreak.
Now, years later, he wanted a traditional aristocratic English union—a businesslike marriage of convenience without emotional engagement, one which would benefit both parties.
Once he found a lady who met these requirements, he could better focus on his politics.
‘You look like you could use a drink.’ Ralston’s long-time friend, Hugh Shelton, the Marquess of Adler, handed him a tumbler of whisky.
‘Scotch whisky. The best from our host’s cellars. ’
Ralston sipped the fine drink. ‘I’m surprised you’re here this early. You usually wait until midnight to attend a ball.’
Adler disliked Society events, especially balls, and had sworn to put off marriage as long as possible.
He preferred his club, his whisky and his mistress too much.
He possessed a sharp wit as well as a mocking expression.
With his light brown hair and green eyes, he was a natural born charmer.
He’d been friends with Ralston since their days at Eton as boys.
They met at a coffee house in the Strand every week to read the papers and talk politics.
Although Adler had no political aspirations, he did his duty by showing up to vote in the House and kept his eyes and ears open to help Ralston.
Adler raised his own glass. ‘My mother has been nagging more than usual.’
‘By more than usual you mean she is guilting you? Or is she threatening you in some other fashion?’
Adler shuffled uncomfortably. ‘I’m not the only one who must ensure the progression of the title for future generations.’
‘Ah, our duty for the heir and spare.’
Adler’s lips twisted into a smug grin as he eyed him. ‘I saw you speaking with that lovely auburn-haired lady. Miss Nora Magarian, is it?’
Ralston’s fingers tightened on his glass. ‘She barrelled into me. I couldn’t avoid her.’
‘Truly?’ Adler arched an eyebrow. ‘I wouldn’t mind if she “bumped” into me.’
‘Don’t be fooled by her beauty. The lady has a tongue that could clip tin.
She claims the lake is overfished and we, as a group, should not hunt a solitary fox.
’ She’d also declared that it must be exhausting to be appeased by others.
He withheld that comment from his friend.
Adler would most likely hoot with laughter.
‘Is that so? A lady who speaks her mind rather than one who bats her lashes and pretends to giggle at bad jokes is rare. I’m intrigued. Perhaps I’ll seek her out myself and ask her to dance.’
‘You?’
‘Why not?’
For some reason, the thought of his flirtatious friend dancing with Nora did not sit well with him. Ladies had always been drawn to Adler, and he disliked the idea of him holding Nora in his arms as they waltzed. ‘I would think the pretty, fair-haired Miss Joan is more your type,’ Ralston said.