Read Online How To Vex A Viscount by Mia Marlowe - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mia Marlowe
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“That’ll come closer to filling the family coffers than mucking about in the mud. Lady Brumley and her daughter are coming to tea this afternoon. Don’t be forgetting that. I’ll expect you to attend them right sharp.”
His father squinted around him at Daisy, raking his gaze over her form. Lucian sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she’d been prudent enough to dress in a manner that belied her wealth, no ostentatious frippery or jewels.
“You put me in mind of someone, m’dear,” the earl said. “What’s your name again?”
Ignoring Lucian’s warnings, Daisy stepped neatly around him to dip in a low curtsy before his father. “I’m—”
“Miss Clavenhook, my assistant,” Lucian finished for her, pulling her back to his side with a glare that demanded silence.
The earl laughed and chucked her chin. “Assistant, hmm? Didn’t think Latin went with young ladies. No matter. Expect you’re a fair treat without those spectacles.”
He started to reach up to remove them, but Daisy put a hand to the owlish frames.
“Can’t see a thing without them, more’s the pity.” She took Lucian’s arm. “If you’ll excuse us, milord, I believe we have work to do.”
“Quite right.” Lucian steered her toward the door. “Come along . . . Miss Clavenhook.”
“Women have been gifted with a sensual nature, with a capacity for pleasure as acute as any man’s, and an ability to beguile and seduce. To deny this is to deny our birthright as daughters of Eve.”
—the journal of Blanche La Tour
CHAPTER EIGHT
“So, you did remember, after all.” Daisy triumphantly squeezed Lucian’s arm as they made their way over the uneven ground toward the excavation site. “I was sure you must.”
“Remember what?” He waved away a bluebottle fly that buzzed near them, the insect weaving drunkenly in the sun-splashed midmorning. A small shower might spring up later, but for now, the weather was finer than a Londoner could hope.
However, the fair skies did little to improve his sour mood. Daisy would have to see to that herself.
“Clavenhook,” she said. “That was my name in the play when we were children. Lady Rowena Clavenhook of the—”
“Of the Deadly Pike,” he finished for her, rubbing his chin with a rueful expression.
“No, no, of the Castle Perilous.” She made a small growl of disgust. “Will you never give that a rest? In truth, I think the scar gives you character.”
Daisy revelled in the warmth of his arm beneath her palm. It radiated through the thin fabric of his shirt and up her wrist to send the blood dancing in her veins with an effervescent fizz. “A small flaw like that scar is actually quite becoming. It makes you appear a dangerous man.”
“Or a slow one,” he said with a reluctant grin. “I obviously wasn’t quick enough to get out of your way.”
“Well, it doesn’t appear you’ve been slow here,” she said as they drew near to the Roman site.
Not only was there an impressive excavation pit, Lucian had constructed a long, low shed to house his finds once they were unearthed. The waist-high benches lining both walls groaned beneath the weight of dirt-encrusted objects.
Lucian handed her a small whisk broom and cloth. “Your domain, Lady Rowena. I apologize for the mess. I fear I’ve been less systematic than I should have been. I’ve been so intent on discovering the next tablet I’ve neglected many of the other finds.”
“I’ll need to catalogue it all first.” She eyed the disarray with mild trepidation.
“There’s a small lap desk here somewhere. Please do what you can to bring order to this chaos.” He started to go, but stopped short. “I should warn you that you may find some of the artwork . . . objectionable.”
The lewd little phallic lamp and the exceedingly naughty mosaic flashed through Daisy’s mind. Against her will, she felt her cheeks heat.
“Pray don’t trouble yourself, milord,” she said. “I am not easily
His father squinted around him at Daisy, raking his gaze over her form. Lucian sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she’d been prudent enough to dress in a manner that belied her wealth, no ostentatious frippery or jewels.
“You put me in mind of someone, m’dear,” the earl said. “What’s your name again?”
Ignoring Lucian’s warnings, Daisy stepped neatly around him to dip in a low curtsy before his father. “I’m—”
“Miss Clavenhook, my assistant,” Lucian finished for her, pulling her back to his side with a glare that demanded silence.
The earl laughed and chucked her chin. “Assistant, hmm? Didn’t think Latin went with young ladies. No matter. Expect you’re a fair treat without those spectacles.”
He started to reach up to remove them, but Daisy put a hand to the owlish frames.
“Can’t see a thing without them, more’s the pity.” She took Lucian’s arm. “If you’ll excuse us, milord, I believe we have work to do.”
“Quite right.” Lucian steered her toward the door. “Come along . . . Miss Clavenhook.”
“Women have been gifted with a sensual nature, with a capacity for pleasure as acute as any man’s, and an ability to beguile and seduce. To deny this is to deny our birthright as daughters of Eve.”
—the journal of Blanche La Tour
CHAPTER EIGHT
“So, you did remember, after all.” Daisy triumphantly squeezed Lucian’s arm as they made their way over the uneven ground toward the excavation site. “I was sure you must.”
“Remember what?” He waved away a bluebottle fly that buzzed near them, the insect weaving drunkenly in the sun-splashed midmorning. A small shower might spring up later, but for now, the weather was finer than a Londoner could hope.
However, the fair skies did little to improve his sour mood. Daisy would have to see to that herself.
“Clavenhook,” she said. “That was my name in the play when we were children. Lady Rowena Clavenhook of the—”
“Of the Deadly Pike,” he finished for her, rubbing his chin with a rueful expression.
“No, no, of the Castle Perilous.” She made a small growl of disgust. “Will you never give that a rest? In truth, I think the scar gives you character.”
Daisy revelled in the warmth of his arm beneath her palm. It radiated through the thin fabric of his shirt and up her wrist to send the blood dancing in her veins with an effervescent fizz. “A small flaw like that scar is actually quite becoming. It makes you appear a dangerous man.”
“Or a slow one,” he said with a reluctant grin. “I obviously wasn’t quick enough to get out of your way.”
“Well, it doesn’t appear you’ve been slow here,” she said as they drew near to the Roman site.
Not only was there an impressive excavation pit, Lucian had constructed a long, low shed to house his finds once they were unearthed. The waist-high benches lining both walls groaned beneath the weight of dirt-encrusted objects.
Lucian handed her a small whisk broom and cloth. “Your domain, Lady Rowena. I apologize for the mess. I fear I’ve been less systematic than I should have been. I’ve been so intent on discovering the next tablet I’ve neglected many of the other finds.”
“I’ll need to catalogue it all first.” She eyed the disarray with mild trepidation.
“There’s a small lap desk here somewhere. Please do what you can to bring order to this chaos.” He started to go, but stopped short. “I should warn you that you may find some of the artwork . . . objectionable.”
The lewd little phallic lamp and the exceedingly naughty mosaic flashed through Daisy’s mind. Against her will, she felt her cheeks heat.
“Pray don’t trouble yourself, milord,” she said. “I am not easily
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