Read Online No Marriage of Convenience by Elizabeth Boyle - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elizabeth Boyle
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lady ignored him.
He let out a deep sigh, one Riley wagered did not bode well for her, as it was followed by Lord Ashlin turning his critical gaze on her. There was something new about the stern set of his jaw that hadn’t been there yesterday—a disapproving severity Riley found more appropriate for a military man than an Oxford don.
He’d obviously found out who she was, or at least who the London gossips thought she was. And now he meant to dismiss her and scrap her theatre to pay his debts.
Then where would she be? Or Aggie? Or Hashim?
She straightened her hat, then smoothed her skirts, calming herself from reproaching him outright for this about-face. Not that she hadn’t fully expected it.
Well, she knew a thing or two about bargaining with men and his lordship was a man, even for all that drivel about his supposed celibacy.
A celibate Ashlin? Utter nonsense!
She tipped her head and glanced up at him shyly. “Is there something wrong, my lord?” she asked in the most dulcet voice she could muster. “I daresay you look unwell this morning. Perhaps you need a tonic or a good rest in the country.”
Stall, she thought. Find a way to keep him from discharging you outright. For if there was one thing of which Riley was certain, she needed him.
Probably more than he needed her.
In her favor, she’d beaten more wily opponents than some owl-eyed earl. And she’d had all night to dream up every argument in the book.
She soon discovered, so had Lord Ashlin.
“Madame Fontaine, I believe I’ve made a terrible mis—” He glanced over her shoulder and she turned as well to see not only the footmen gaping at them, but a good portion of the household staff peering from doorways and alcoves.
Riley couldn’t tell who was garnering more attention, her or Hashim. The gruesome Turk wore his most sinister glare, a ferocious look he loved using to frighten young women or intimidate her more insistent suitors.
She chose to smile graciously at her audience, a gesture that seemed to annoy the Earl even further.
“Belton!” Lord Ashlin all but shouted. “Do we pay these people to gawk and gape?”
The instant the butler stepped from the serving door, the other servants ducked belowstairs or hustled off to whatever duties they were so evidently neglecting.
Lord Ashlin nodded at his butler and returned his cold gaze to her. “Madame, as I was saying, I would like a word with you. In private.” He directed this last order squarely at Hashim.
She turned to her self-appointed protector. “If you don’t mind?”
Hashim eyed Lord Ashlin with a quick head-to-toe appraisal and then nodded his approval for her to continue with Lord Ashlin alone. As Riley followed the Earl into his study, Hashim took his post near the door, assuming his usual stance, his arms folded across his chest, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his jeweled scimitar.
Riley found herself puzzled by the man leading her into his study. Lord Ashlin moved with a fluid, athletic grace, hinting of a well-developed physique beneath his plainly cut black coat and breeches.
Obviously there was more to the professor than just books and exams…
She took the seat he offered her. His desk had been cleared of the unpaid receipts and notes, and she would have said something, if Lord Ashlin hadn’t spoken first.
“Madame Fontaine,” he began, “I have made some inquiries regarding your credentials in preparing my nieces for their debuts—”
“And you find me extremely overqualified,” she interrupted, having anticipated this first argument. She would have wagered her share of the theatre on just what he’d learned, subjects they probably did not cover at the university.
At least not in the classrooms.
School is about to begin, my lord , she thought, as she scooted her chair a little closer to the wide and imposing oak desk between them.
“Well, your qualifications are certainly…” he paused, as if struggling to find the right
He let out a deep sigh, one Riley wagered did not bode well for her, as it was followed by Lord Ashlin turning his critical gaze on her. There was something new about the stern set of his jaw that hadn’t been there yesterday—a disapproving severity Riley found more appropriate for a military man than an Oxford don.
He’d obviously found out who she was, or at least who the London gossips thought she was. And now he meant to dismiss her and scrap her theatre to pay his debts.
Then where would she be? Or Aggie? Or Hashim?
She straightened her hat, then smoothed her skirts, calming herself from reproaching him outright for this about-face. Not that she hadn’t fully expected it.
Well, she knew a thing or two about bargaining with men and his lordship was a man, even for all that drivel about his supposed celibacy.
A celibate Ashlin? Utter nonsense!
She tipped her head and glanced up at him shyly. “Is there something wrong, my lord?” she asked in the most dulcet voice she could muster. “I daresay you look unwell this morning. Perhaps you need a tonic or a good rest in the country.”
Stall, she thought. Find a way to keep him from discharging you outright. For if there was one thing of which Riley was certain, she needed him.
Probably more than he needed her.
In her favor, she’d beaten more wily opponents than some owl-eyed earl. And she’d had all night to dream up every argument in the book.
She soon discovered, so had Lord Ashlin.
“Madame Fontaine, I believe I’ve made a terrible mis—” He glanced over her shoulder and she turned as well to see not only the footmen gaping at them, but a good portion of the household staff peering from doorways and alcoves.
Riley couldn’t tell who was garnering more attention, her or Hashim. The gruesome Turk wore his most sinister glare, a ferocious look he loved using to frighten young women or intimidate her more insistent suitors.
She chose to smile graciously at her audience, a gesture that seemed to annoy the Earl even further.
“Belton!” Lord Ashlin all but shouted. “Do we pay these people to gawk and gape?”
The instant the butler stepped from the serving door, the other servants ducked belowstairs or hustled off to whatever duties they were so evidently neglecting.
Lord Ashlin nodded at his butler and returned his cold gaze to her. “Madame, as I was saying, I would like a word with you. In private.” He directed this last order squarely at Hashim.
She turned to her self-appointed protector. “If you don’t mind?”
Hashim eyed Lord Ashlin with a quick head-to-toe appraisal and then nodded his approval for her to continue with Lord Ashlin alone. As Riley followed the Earl into his study, Hashim took his post near the door, assuming his usual stance, his arms folded across his chest, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his jeweled scimitar.
Riley found herself puzzled by the man leading her into his study. Lord Ashlin moved with a fluid, athletic grace, hinting of a well-developed physique beneath his plainly cut black coat and breeches.
Obviously there was more to the professor than just books and exams…
She took the seat he offered her. His desk had been cleared of the unpaid receipts and notes, and she would have said something, if Lord Ashlin hadn’t spoken first.
“Madame Fontaine,” he began, “I have made some inquiries regarding your credentials in preparing my nieces for their debuts—”
“And you find me extremely overqualified,” she interrupted, having anticipated this first argument. She would have wagered her share of the theatre on just what he’d learned, subjects they probably did not cover at the university.
At least not in the classrooms.
School is about to begin, my lord , she thought, as she scooted her chair a little closer to the wide and imposing oak desk between them.
“Well, your qualifications are certainly…” he paused, as if struggling to find the right
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