Entrancing the Earl by Patricia Rice

Author:Patricia Rice
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Book View Cafe

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Gerard knew how to dangle his aperitif glass and listen with an air of boredom as his host and hostess prosed on about their latest charity or favorite opera. He knew how to slouch and hold himself aloof when forced to accompany an uninteresting lady into the dinner table. He had polite, stiff conversation polished to perfection and could swivel from one companion to the other without ever really listening.

He could not take his eyes off Lady Iona Ross in her secondhand gown.

He didn’t care if the petticoat was last decade’s fullness or the sleeves were the wrong degree of tightness for evening. He supposed the rose-and-white stripe was inappropriate for dinner as well. All he could see were her creamy shoulders and firm breasts rising above the frills and furbelows—and imagine unfastening the cunning loops holding it all together.

He even engaged his host in a discussion of the artifacts found in the medieval tenement demolition and still couldn’t reduce his awareness of Iona. She talked excitedly with the viscount’s wife about a collection of photographs they studied—not giving him a second glance.

He should be miffed that she ignored him, but he suspected she was doing the same as he—attempting to pretend that kiss never happened.

His loins told him otherwise.

Viscount Dare led Lady Iona into dinner, and Gerard held out his elbow for Azmin, Lady Dare. A laughing minx with huge dark eyes, she always appeared to know things he didn’t. Women were a damned annoyance.

“We should let Lady Iona wear her male costume when we have some of Zane’s students over to dinner, let her learn to blend in,” Azmin said in amusement. “We cannot expect her to hide all alone with only us for company.”

“I should like to attend the gambling hell where my stepfather and his cronies lurk,” Iona asserted as they took their seats at the dinner table. “The sooner I can end his tyranny, the sooner I can go home. I can’t be useful sitting here, twiddling my thumbs.”

Instead of leaning back in his chair, casually dangling a wine glass, Gerard leaned forward and all but broke the glass stem. “You in no way, manner, or form resemble a man,” he argued. “You’d be mocked, knocked down, and thrown out of any gambling establishment. Forget that notion.”

“Then I’ll wear rouge and kohl and naughty dresses and go as your courtesan,” she countered, daring him with those big, liquid-gold eyes.

“I’m not planning on attending gambling hells. I’ll be entertaining lawyers. You may go with me, if you wish—not dressed as a man or a courtesan.” He stabbed his butter and tore a hole in his bread.

“Certainly. I expect to dictate my wishes for my future. But those meetings cannot last all day. Perhaps I could visit a library and see if there are any newer books on beekeeping.” She demurely sipped her soup.

Gerard wasn’t fooled. “You will not go dressed as a student!”

“I am not yours to command,” she reminded him. “And if they admit females, then I shall happily go as myself.

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