Love Me, Lord Tender (A Series of Unconventional Courtships Book 1) by Deb Marlowe

Author:Deb Marlowe [Marlowe, Deb]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Dynastic marriages, political alliances, unification of lands or fortunes, love matches. There are many reasons for marriage in Society, my dear young ladies. Be sure that the one you end up with works for you . . .

—Whispers from Lady X

Tensford woke the next morning after a bad night, and still in a dark mood.

Foolish. Foolish. Foolish. What an idiot he’d been, to kiss Lady Hope Brightley.

He’d made sacrifices, attempting to restore Greystone. Most had barely registered. He didn’t miss his rooms at the manor house—they had been a refuge from his mother’s harangues, but not more. He couldn’t care less about eating simply or bemoan spending his time working out on the estate, next to his people.

But he’d felt a twinge at selling his sporty curricle and he’d hated passing up fossil hunting jaunts with Sterne.

That kiss, however, was another thing entirely. He’d walked right up to the edge of a precipice with that one.

She was so damned tempting. Soft and full of wit and humor—and passion. She’d gone to so much trouble, put her own reputation at risk, just to soothe his troubled spirit and make him more at ease with . . . the world. And to perhaps find a girl who would see past his money troubles and into his heart?

It was a kind gesture, generous and . . . dangerous.

He didn’t want another girl—he wanted more of her. And he didn’t want to want her.

He didn’t want to find himself having to sacrifice her.

Still fuming at the imbalances of fate, he went down to the breakfast room . . . and stopped dead on the threshold.

His mother sat at the table.

“There you are, Tensford. Don’t stand there gaping like a fish. Do come in. Breakfast is waiting.”

He gaped at the groaning sideboard. “So I see. What is this, Mother? Why are you here?”

“I have come for the Season. It’s time I had a bit of a frolic.” She made a face. “Your aunt has worn my nerves to a frazzle—and that McNamara woman! Between the two of them I thought I might go mad. So, here I am.”

To drive him mad? He went to stare at the array of food. “Are we expecting guests? At breakfast?”

“That is a typical breakfast for an English lord, Tensford. Hundreds of peers across London are surveying the same sort of spread. You are an earl. It’s time you lived like one.”

“I am an earl with few funds. We are a family with very little money, Mother.” Thanks in largest part to her. “And I’ve told you time and again, you must learn to live like it.”

“You don’t mean that I should scrape and pinch in London, surely?” she asked, aghast.

“I do. Unless you wish me to have to lease this house, as well?”

Horror filled her expression. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would. We eat simply here, Mother. We live simply. If you cannot abide by this one necessary edict, you may take yourself off to a hotel for the Season. I know your widow’s portion will cover the expense.

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