A Bargain with Fate by Ann Elizabeth Cree

Author:Ann Elizabeth Cree [Cree, Ann Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 1998-09-14T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Michael reined Faro to a walk. He’d hoped a hard ride through Hyde Park would clear his head after last night. Unfortunately, letting his horse run at a full gallop only increased his headache.

No doubt because of his excesses at Fallingham’s after leaving Rosalyn last night. He swore. Faro’s ears twitched. Somehow she’d managed to pierce through the cool indifference he’d displayed to the world. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt angry enough with a woman to lose his temper, much less threaten one to do his bidding. Reluctantly, he acknowledged it was because with most women he was quite aware of having the upper hand in the relationship.

But not with Rosalyn. She made it quite clear last night she wanted nothing to do with him, that she only suffered his company because of their bargain. He’d felt that peculiar hurt again when she told him to leave and then he’d blown up at her.

The damnable thing was he wanted her to like him.

Several drops of rain fell on his bare head. The grey overcast sky reflected his sour mood. He best get home before he was caught in a downpour.

Watkins opened the door to him. Michael strode past him, only to stop as his butler cleared his throat.

He turned. ‘Yes?’

‘I have a message for you. I think it might be of a somewhat urgent nature.’

Michael took the note from Watkin’s hand. It bore the mark of one of London’s jewellers, Compton’s, an establishment he occasionally frequented. He had no idea why they would contact him; his bills were always sent to his agent. He perused the contents, then crumbled the note. ‘Damn!’

‘My lord?’

‘Never mind.’ He turned and dashed up the staircase to change. Whether Rosalyn liked it or not, she was going to see him now.

But she was not at home. Mrs Harrod, a fount of information where he was concerned, told him she intended to do a bit of shopping and perhaps stop at Hookham’s. ‘And I will say, my lord, that she appeared a bit overwrought. Great big circles under her eyes as if she hardly slept, poor lamb. I hate to say much, but it’s my belief her brother is in a spot of trouble.’

Michael thanked her and decided to head for Compton’s in Bond Street. He emerged a half-hour later, after instructing Compton where to send his purchases, more determined than ever to track down Rosalyn. His next stop was at Hookham’s library.

She was there, dressed in a grey pelisse, standing in front of a shelf, thumbing through a book. She did not notice him until he spoke from behind her.

‘You’re devilish difficult to find, my dear.’

She jumped, the book tumbling from her hands. Her eyes widened in surprise, then a cool expression settled on her features. ‘What are you doing here, my lord?’

‘I wanted to speak to you.’

‘Indeed. I am certain it can wait until later. I am busy now.’ She turned back to the shelves in dismissal.

‘What I have to say cannot wait until later.

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