The Knave of Hearts by Boyle Elizabeth

Author:Boyle, Elizabeth [Boyle, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Historical Romance
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-01-25T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Tuck’s note arrived early the next morning.

Lavinia didn’t know if she was relieved or insulted by the hasty scrawl and the prompt response to her edict.

All arranged. Meet me in the garden at two.

Well, she had laid out her demand. I want to be married. Properly so.

And Tuck—make that, Mr. Rowland—was going to do his utmost to see the task done.

How kind of him, she thought as she made her determined way to the bench in the garden just as the clock struck the designated hour.

Oddly, there was no sign of him, so she sat down, folding her hands in her lap and doing her utmost to maintain a calm and unruffled demeanor. Never mind that he’d kissed her last night.

She’d kissed Tuck Rowland.

Thank goodness Louisa hadn’t been in their room when she’d returned—all undone by the touch of that roguish devil. She didn’t know what she would have said to Louisa.

He kissed me, and I would have let him do more . . . anything . . .

And she would have, for he’d quite opened her eyes. Who would have thought kissing could be so utterly perfect? Especially with the wrong man.

For she was utterly certain of that—Tuck Rowland was the wrong man for her. Feckless, improper. Why he probably finished his evening by kissing half a dozen other ladies.

A thought that had her lips pressed together for a very different reason. Had he? Left her and gone to another? The toe of her slipper gouged into the gravel.

Not that she cared, she told herself. She should be giving Hannibal a plate of kippers for saving her from certain ruin.

And now she was going to meet a lady who could help salvage her Season, and she’d be married in a thrice.

Yes, that was all well and good. Exactly what she’d always wanted. What she’d planned when she’d come to London. As she’d told Tuck the night before, a comfortable home in the country. A quiet sort of life.

Much like he wanted, she realized. She wouldn’t have thought it of him, but there it was. Tuck longed for the quiet life.

And yet, why did that notion suddenly leave her feeling horribly out of sorts?

Because she realized that the man who’d inhabit that bucolic haven she’d put on her list would not be the one she wanted.

Behind her, the gate opened and even before she could turn around, she heard a hopeful voice call out in relief, “Louisa?”

Lavinia flinched. It wasn’t the voice she was expecting. And when she turned, she found herself face to face with Lord Wakefield—and finally she got a good look at the man who’d stolen her sister’s heart.

She watched as first his face was alight with love, then a quizzical realization that perhaps he had the wrong lady in his sights.

Two things struck Lavinia immediately. The viscount could see she wasn’t Louisa. That was telling enough as it was—for very few people could discern between the two of them.

No, with Lord Wakefied, his heart was

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