The Viscount Risks It All by Knightley Erin

Author:Knightley, Erin [Knightley, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Historical Romance
ISBN: 9780451473660
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2016-01-04T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

“Good heavens, Gavin, how could you possibly look any larger than the last time I saw you?”

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Dering smiled at his mother before bending to kiss her proffered cheek. “It’s lovely to see you as well.”

She patted his cheek fondly. “Darling, don’t slouch. And I suppose you’re fortunate that that handsome face of yours distracts from the brutish physique you insist on cultivating.”

At this point in his life, he knew better than to argue with her. Holding out his arm to indicate for her to precede him into the drawing room, he said, “I do hope you had a comfortable journey.”

She swept past him and went straight for the steaming pot of tea that had just been delivered moments earlier. Pouring herself a cup, she made a small noise of disgust as she glanced to Dering’s father. “It would have been more comfortable if we had left yesterday as I suggested. My intuition told me it would rain, and just look at that mess out there.”

She tipped her head toward the window, which showed nothing more than a misty, drizzly day. Hardly anything to bother an Englishman. Mother’s “intuition” was little more than a feeling she claimed to get in her wrist, which she’d broken in childhood, whenever it was about to rain. He and his brothers had scoffed at her claims over the years, but in truth, it was accurate about half the time.

His father sighed before turning to greet Dering with an affectionate pat on his shoulder. “Good to see you, son. I appreciate your coming out to the house in such atrocious weather in order to greet us. Warms the heart, really.”

At fifty-eight, the earl sported a headful of white hair and a belly that betrayed his fondness for sweets. Fortunately, with his height, the extra weight wasn’t nearly as noticeable as it might have been on a shorter man.

“I heard that, George,” Mother said from the sofa, her voice dry but with enough fondness to show that she wasn’t truly offended by his mild sarcasm.

“I’m certain you did. Your excellent hearing is one of the things I admire most about you, my dear,” he answered with a wink to Dering. “I will say, I rather prefer this sort of weather for shooting. Better than all that squinting in the sunshine. I hope you and your brothers will be up to a little hunting later this summer.”

Nodding, Dering followed his father into the drawing room. “I imagine time can be made for such a thing. I do know how well you like to trounce the lot of us.” He was only half kidding. His father had rather legendary aim, and was a welcome member of any shooting party during the fall.

Michael came stomping in behind them, still trying to shake the moisture from his clothing. “Please tell me there is some food prepared,” he said, looking around the room.

“Cook sent word she’d have a tray to us presently,” Dering said as he poured a glass of brandy for each of them.

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