The Dubious Miss Dalrymple by Kasey Michaels

Author:Kasey Michaels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1990-03-13T16:00:00+00:00

ALASTAIR WATCHED as Elly, Baby Willie held high in her arms, ran toward the incoming waves, then retreated as they chased her, the pair’s delighted giggles floating upward on the air to where he stood.

He felt abandoned, lonely, and envious of a small child who could make Elly laugh, while all he could seem to do was make her angry—and suspicious.

He reached a hand into his pocket, to crush the missive from Wiggins that had arrived only that morning. The Dalrymples were the genuine heirs—Wiggins would stake his reputation on it. The Captain had had his sources in London check with the Hythe solicitors, and everything was in order, although the solicitors had been amazed when they had stumbled over the existence of the last of the Dalrymple family. If Alastair Lowell were to have actually perished at sea, his very distant cousin, Leslie Dalrymple, would truly be the Earl of Hythe.

“I always knew it,” Alastair said aloud, happy no one could hear his blatant, face-saving lie.

What a fool he had been! Had he actually believed that Elinor Dalrymple could be a money-mad impostor, or a smuggler, or even a traitor to her country? Had he actually convinced himself that—if she was a legitimate relative—she would have stooped to killing him in order to set her brother up as Earl?

Yes. Yes, damn his eyes, he had.

But he hadn’t needed Wiggins’s missive explaining how the Lowell solicitors had had to track down Leslie and Elly and convince them of the rightness of their claim to the title to straighten him out.

He had known the truth from the moment he’d kissed her—possibly even from the moment she’d taken down her hair on the beach and smiled up at him.

Fighting down the urge to join her on the beach and apologize to her—on his knees if necessary—Alastair turned away from the shore and headed for Seashadow, intent on meeting with Leslie, barely noticing as Hugo stepped out from behind a tree to follow him.

At least Leslie liked him—or Alastair would like to think so. Perhaps through the brother he could find a way back to the sister.

“The sister who—thanks to my stupidity—believes that I am either a spy, a smuggler, or worse,” he told himself as he passed by the small stable and waved to Harry Biggs—who seemed to be yelling at the man-hungry Lily, while she most happily had her back turned to him. “Wiggins’s letter says that his man—Fishbait, or whatever his name is—called on Elly to warn her of smugglers and spies using Seashadow’s beaches. Now everything is falling into place. The dratted woman thinks I’m a spy—me! the Earl of Hythe!—and she’s out to single-handedly catch me at it! Lord, I think I love that woman!”

“Aaaarrggh! Aaah!”

“What?” Alastair exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his skin as he whirled about to see the giant lumbering along three paces behind him, a grin as wide as a cavern splitting his face. “Christ on a crutch, man, don’t ever sneak up on

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