Read Online Yankee Earl by Shirl Henke - Free Book Online

from learning about the earlier attempt on Jason's life in the country. “It would appear you have made an enemy who wants to see you dead.”
           “Forrestal already tried that, if you recall. I don't kill so easily.”
           “Ah, yes, Etherington's heir. He might be the one hiring these assassins. I did a bit of looking into his affairs after your duel. You were right in assuming that he staged the confrontation at the Haymarket Room.”
           “Whatever for?” Jason asked, perplexed, leaning back against the musty-smelling squabs of the coach.
           “Well, you know how far in dun territory Forrestal is,” Drum said with relish. “Since his creditors have become rather persistent of late, most particularly those who own his gaming vowels, he's been casting about for a way out. Man's obviously quite desperate. Set his sights on marrying an heiress.”
           There was something in Drum's tone that brought Jason's heavy eyelids wide open once again. “An heiress...has he any particular one in mind?”
           Drum's thin lips curved in an elegant smile. “Why, none other than your very own dearly beloved Miss Fairchild.”
           “And she refused, I take it?”
           “Didn't even get to the gel. He approached her father, but the viscount had already set his mind to the match with his old friend Cargrave's heir. Told Forrestal that the matter of his daughter's future—and her very considerable fortune—had already been arranged.”
           Jason stroked the beard beginning to bristle his jaw. “So, you think he'd try to get rid of me so that he could resume his suit for Rachel?”
           “She has quite a reputation as an irascible ape-leader now. If you were not there to come up to scratch, her father would be rather desperate. Might figure he could do worse than make an alliance with the heir to a dukedom.”
           Jason shook his head in weary amazement. “I will never get used to the way you English speak of marriages as alliances or arrangements. Sounds rather like politics or high finance to me.”
           “Or war,” Drum replied with a chuckle.
     
    * * * *
     
           The scandal sheets went wild the following morning with reports of the debacle at Cargrave's ball. By that night there was scarcely a soul in all of London who had not heard about the betrothal and Rachel Fairchild's reaction to it. Not that her prospective husband had appeared much happier when he strode from the room. And was it not most intriguing that earlier they had danced together with seemingly perfect civility four times? After all, if a lady allowed a gentleman to partner her more than twice during the course of an evening, gossip always ensued if they were not betrothed. Would she defy her father's wishes and reject the Yankee earl?
           Inside their private coach en route to Harleigh Hall the following morning, Rachel's sister Harry was determined to have an answer to that very question. “You have not said more than three words since we departed, Rachel. We simply must talk, sister to sister.”
           “I do not feel like making idle conversation,” Rachel replied dismissively.
           “How could you do such a despicable thing to the earl? To Father and the marquess as well! Why, poor Papa was pale as milk. 'Tis a wonder he did not collapse in a fit of apoplexy after the hoydenish display you put on at your own betrothal. Whatever could Falconridge have said to so overset you?”
           “As I told you this morning when you arrived, I will not discuss the earl.”
           The mulish tilt of Rachel's chin indicated all too well to Harry that she would gain no further satisfaction from her sister for the time being. However, like their father, the baroness was infinitely patient and doggedly determined. “I rather thought he was handsome...in that bold, reckless manner American men seem