Tempting the Earl (Wright Bastards, #1) by Amy Sandas

Author:Amy Sandas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: steamy historical romance, regency romance, victorian romance, opposites attract, Scottish heroine
Publisher: Amy Sandas
Published: 2022-03-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

“Come on now, Wright,” Mr. Bentley interrupted in a jovial tone as he came toward them with his wife on his arm. “It’s not proper form to keep Miss Morgan all to yourself.”

Emma smiled at Ainsworth. “I’d love to introduce you to my youngest sister and her husband. If you don’t mind, of course.”

Though she was tempted to look to the earl for some reason to stay at his side, she smiled at her hostess instead. “Not at all, Mrs. Bentley.”

Stepping away from her husband’s side, the fair-haired woman linked arms with Ainsworth. “Call me Emma, please.” Then she noted casually, “I’m sure our gentlemen are willing to wait for us here. We’ll only be a few minutes.”

As the women walked away, Ainsworth glanced back to where the brothers were giving each other guarded glances. She couldn’t help but smile at the clever woman’s maneuvering that left the men with no one to talk to but each other. “Well done,” she whispered appreciatively. “Why do I get the sense you’ve had to do that rather frequently?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Because I have. But it wasn’t a lie. I really would like you to meet Portia.” Her gray eyes fixed on a point up ahead. “There she is. And Angelique, as well.”

As Ainsworth turned, her attention was immediately captured by a vibrantly styled lady, dressed in a gown the color of intense sapphire blue. Though she was very obviously a woman of advanced age, her hair was an inky black piled high on her head in an elaborate design. Rouge tinged her crepe paper cheeks and darkened her lips while a subtle bit of kohl lined her eyes.

“As you may recall,” Emma whispered softly beside her, “my great-aunt is quite unconventional.”

There was no regret or censure in the woman’s voice and Ainsworth smiled as the lady under discussion caught sight of their approach. Angelique immediately reached both of her bejeweled hands toward Emma and widened her lips into a radiant smile.

“My dahling,” the lady exclaimed in an undeniably French accent. “I was wondering if you’d snuck off to zee garden again with your handsome young man,” she noted with a sly sparkle in her eyes.

Emma ignored the comment, though Ainsworth noted a slight blush on her cheeks as she took her great-aunt’s hands and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “I only just left you a few minutes ago.”

“Ah, but a skilled lover can accomplish a great deal in a few minutes, no?”

A snorting laugh came from someone standing just behind the Frenchwoman. Ainsworth tilted her head to see a slim young woman with hair nearly as black as Angelique’s. The lady was turned toward the man beside her as though trying to stifle her laughter in his cravat.

“Angelique,” Emma interjected, “I’d like to introduce you to a new friend of the family, Miss Morgan of Dumfriesshire. Miss Morgan, my great-aunt the Dowager Countess of Chelmsworth, but do call her Angelique. She insists upon it,” she added with a smile.

“Lovely to meet you, my lady,” Ainsworth replied as she gave a curtsey.

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