Read Online No Marriage of Convenience by Elizabeth Boyle - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Boyle
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word.
Riley took advantage of his discomfort and filled in for him. “I think the word you are looking for is ‘perfect.’ I know you probably think such a task is beneath my considerable forte , and I certainly agree with you.” She held up her hand to stave off what appeared to be a counterassault, and he politely let her proceed.
Luckily, Riley suffered no such boundaries as the confines of good manners. She went on unabashedly.
“My lord, I find myself completely indebted to you and your family for your generosity and foresight in supporting our latest production. Therefore I can suffer no artistic vanity over assisting you in such a delightful task.” Riley drew a quick breath and continued before he had a chance to forget his manners and interrupt. “My goodness, when I told my fellow players at the Queen’s Gate about your largesse, the entire company asked, nay, I must tell the truth here, demanded that our opening night production be dedicated to you, our dearest patron.”
Lord Ashlin looked anything but honored.
Riley gritted her teeth and fluttered her lashes, hoping the sincerity she’d practiced all night cloaked her words with the measure of truth they lacked.
“I can see from your expression you think we should continue our tradition of bestowing the opening night honors on the Prince.” She nodded thoughtfully. “After all, he will be there, and with you beside him in the Ashlin box, it may be uncomfortable. I assure you, I will smooththe social waters over with regard to Prinny.” She leaned over the desk, tipped her head so she glanced shyly up from beneath the brim of her hat, and said in her most confidential tones, “The Prince and I are quite close.”
As she let her little white lie slip, she realized her mistake by the sharp look in his eyes.
If she thought he’d looked stern before, his face now took on the qualities of granite as he leveled his gaze at her.
“And it is just that ‘closeness’ with men that I wish to discuss,” he said, jumping in even as she struggled to think of some way of smoothing over her disastrous improvisation.
“My nieces,” he continued, “are sheltered, innocent girls, and I would like them to stay that way—at least until they find themselves married. What my cousin has proposed, using you to enhance their social graces, seemed to be a good idea at first—”
“And it still—” Riley stopped in mid-sentence as she watched one of Lord Ashlin’s eyebrows arch wickedly, the meaning clear.
The Earl cleared his throat. “My brother and sister-in-law took great care in seeing Beatrice, Margaret, and Louisa gently reared so someday they’d take their rightful place in society.” He leaned forward. “And as their guardian, I will not risk their reputations by allowing them to associate with a woman of your character.”
Of her character?
Why the stuffy, priggish, puritanical…
Riley abandoned her original course of flattery and decided to try a different approach. “My lord, I can see you have given this careful thought, but let me be honest with you. The Season is about to begin and London will startfilling with young girls out to find eligible husbands.”
“And what has that to do with retaining your services?”
“Why, everything,” she told him. “While your nieces may be accomplished and beautiful,” at this she paused and smiled, knowing full well if they were real beauties he wouldn’t have hired her in the first place, “they need something to set them apart. Qualities that will allow them to stand out amidst the crowd. To make them Originals.”
“Whatever guidance they require,” he said slowly, “I’m sure my Cousin Felicity will do the job quite admirably.”
“Are we talking about the Cousin Felicity I met, or do you have another?” she asked, hoping to lighten the mood. When he looked neither amused nor appreciative of her observation, she went back to honesty. “Tell me, has your Cousin Felicity
Riley took advantage of his discomfort and filled in for him. “I think the word you are looking for is ‘perfect.’ I know you probably think such a task is beneath my considerable forte , and I certainly agree with you.” She held up her hand to stave off what appeared to be a counterassault, and he politely let her proceed.
Luckily, Riley suffered no such boundaries as the confines of good manners. She went on unabashedly.
“My lord, I find myself completely indebted to you and your family for your generosity and foresight in supporting our latest production. Therefore I can suffer no artistic vanity over assisting you in such a delightful task.” Riley drew a quick breath and continued before he had a chance to forget his manners and interrupt. “My goodness, when I told my fellow players at the Queen’s Gate about your largesse, the entire company asked, nay, I must tell the truth here, demanded that our opening night production be dedicated to you, our dearest patron.”
Lord Ashlin looked anything but honored.
Riley gritted her teeth and fluttered her lashes, hoping the sincerity she’d practiced all night cloaked her words with the measure of truth they lacked.
“I can see from your expression you think we should continue our tradition of bestowing the opening night honors on the Prince.” She nodded thoughtfully. “After all, he will be there, and with you beside him in the Ashlin box, it may be uncomfortable. I assure you, I will smooththe social waters over with regard to Prinny.” She leaned over the desk, tipped her head so she glanced shyly up from beneath the brim of her hat, and said in her most confidential tones, “The Prince and I are quite close.”
As she let her little white lie slip, she realized her mistake by the sharp look in his eyes.
If she thought he’d looked stern before, his face now took on the qualities of granite as he leveled his gaze at her.
“And it is just that ‘closeness’ with men that I wish to discuss,” he said, jumping in even as she struggled to think of some way of smoothing over her disastrous improvisation.
“My nieces,” he continued, “are sheltered, innocent girls, and I would like them to stay that way—at least until they find themselves married. What my cousin has proposed, using you to enhance their social graces, seemed to be a good idea at first—”
“And it still—” Riley stopped in mid-sentence as she watched one of Lord Ashlin’s eyebrows arch wickedly, the meaning clear.
The Earl cleared his throat. “My brother and sister-in-law took great care in seeing Beatrice, Margaret, and Louisa gently reared so someday they’d take their rightful place in society.” He leaned forward. “And as their guardian, I will not risk their reputations by allowing them to associate with a woman of your character.”
Of her character?
Why the stuffy, priggish, puritanical…
Riley abandoned her original course of flattery and decided to try a different approach. “My lord, I can see you have given this careful thought, but let me be honest with you. The Season is about to begin and London will startfilling with young girls out to find eligible husbands.”
“And what has that to do with retaining your services?”
“Why, everything,” she told him. “While your nieces may be accomplished and beautiful,” at this she paused and smiled, knowing full well if they were real beauties he wouldn’t have hired her in the first place, “they need something to set them apart. Qualities that will allow them to stand out amidst the crowd. To make them Originals.”
“Whatever guidance they require,” he said slowly, “I’m sure my Cousin Felicity will do the job quite admirably.”
“Are we talking about the Cousin Felicity I met, or do you have another?” she asked, hoping to lighten the mood. When he looked neither amused nor appreciative of her observation, she went back to honesty. “Tell me, has your Cousin Felicity
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