A Lady in Disguise by Lynsay Sands

Author:Lynsay Sands
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-06-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“Lord Ramsey.”

James didn’t answer at once, but glanced a bit wildly around the room, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this one. It had seemed such a good idea to trick her into coming here with that fake invitation to a ladies tea. Unfortunately, he hadn’t considered that Maggie would be no more pleased by his deception than she’d been with any of his past exploits involving her. Now that he had her here, what the devil was he to do with her? His intention had been to apologize for his past transgressions, but James somehow didn’t think she would be any more willing to listen to him now than she’d been in the past.

“I understood I had been invited to a ladies tea,” Margaret said, drawing his gaze reluctantly back to her face. Yes. She was angry.

“Aye, well . . .” Feeling the hot flush of guilt creep up over his face, he grimaced, then confessed: “My aunt is not here. This is her bridge day. I took advantage of that to—”

“There is no tea party,” she interrupted. It wasn’t a question, but he answered it as if it were.

“Well, no. At least, not one others will be coming to attend . . . but I had to talk to you, and since you are never at home when I call . . .” He paused to glare at her—he was not at all used to anyone not being in to him—and could still hardly fathom that she had chosen to disregard his attempts at communication. She should be grateful that he had taken the trouble. Apparently she didn’t see it that way, however. Even as he stood there, she was making impatient noises and getting to her feet. His eyes widened in alarm, and he rushed forward as she wavered unsteadily.

“You should not be up. You should be resting,” he said firmly. She impatiently shook away the hand he used to try to steady her.

“I should not be here. And I am fine—that tincture has done wonders for me.” She snatched up her crumpled and slightly muddy hat from where it lay on the floor beside the settee, and James admitted reluctantly to himself that it was true. His aunt’s remedy had apparently been efficacious; Maggie was no longer pale or frail-looking. In fact, she had quite a bit of color about her right now, though he suspected some of it was due to temper. In fact, as he watched he became more certain that her quick recovery was due entirely to her building ire.

“I am leaving.”

James watched helplessly as she arranged her hat so that it would not irritate her head wound, but when she started toward the door, he was moved to action. Rushing forward, he pushed it closed and then positioned himself firmly in front of it, arms crossed over his chest. “You can’t. Not until we talk.”

“I have no interest in speaking with you, my lord,” she said stiffly, trying to grab at the doorknob.

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