Read Online Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount by Catherine Hemmerling - Free Book Online Page B

young children ran into the study and announced that the evening meal was being served.
    Hope and Michael both looked up, startled by the interruption. Hope’s eyes flew immediately to the mantle clock and saw that it was well past the time she and Michael were to be at Rose’s dinner party.
    Jumping to her feet, Hope turned to Michael and said in dismay, “Oh Michael, we are late for the party!”
    “Wh—?” Michael replied in disbelief, also rising to his feet and looking at the clock. When he saw that Hope was indeed correct, he muttered, “Damn,” under his breath.
    “Michael,” Hope admonished, looking at her younger siblings pointedly.
    Flushing slightly, Michael said sheepishly, “Sorry.”
    The four children giggled at seeing a grown man being reprimanded by their sister.
    The oldest of the four looked at his sister and said with a scoff, “Oh Hope…it’s not as if we have never heard the word ‘damn’ before.”
    “Timothy! I don’t care what you may have heard or not heard, you are not to use such language,” Hope scolded, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “It is not gentlemanly.”
    Eying Michael curiously, Timothy asked, “Does that mean you are not a gentleman?” Then, before Michael even had a chance to respond, he turned to Hope and said, “And should you be entertaining a man that is not a gentleman?”
    Opening her mouth to reply, Hope realized she wasn’t quite sure how to answer the boy’s inquiry. Her mouth snapping shut in irritation, Hope gave Michael a see-what-you-have-done look. It was his fault she was in this mess, after all.
    Adopting a very serious mien, Michael said, “Even a gentleman makes a mistake every now and then, but one should not make a habit of it. And one should always apologize afterward. As a young gentleman yourself, as well as the oldest of your younger siblings, it is up to you to set the example of what a good gentleman—or gentlewoman—should be, don’t you think?”
    Puffing up with boyish pride, he nodded in accordance before turning to Hope and declaring grandly, “Very well, Hope, I suppose it would be all right for you to continue to entertain, er—” A look of confusion came over Timothy’s face as he demanded of Michael, “Who are you, anyway?”
    “Tim—!” Hope began, again horrified by her brother’s abominable behavior.
    “No, no, Miss Stuckeley,” Michael interrupted. “Timothy is absolutely correct. We haven’t been properly introduced. I, my dear young Stuckeley, am Michael Ashmore, the Viscount Lichfield.”
    Michael walked around the desk to offer his hand to the young boy. Duly impressed with Michael’s title and manner, Timothy straightened his posture and took the proffered hand gallantly and the two shook hands as men. Then, with an affected sniff, Timothy said, “Shall I tell Mother you will be joining us shortly?”
    Still highly amused by the change in her brother, Hope replied, “I believe I will order a tray to be delivered here for myself and Lord Lichfield, but thank you.”
    Timothy glanced at his new hero for confirmation, and only when Michael nodded his assent to the plan did the boy deign to leave the room.
    Hope immediately turned to Michael and asked, “How did you do that?”
    “Do what?”
    “Turn a perfectly rotten ten-year-old boy into a polite, albeit condescending, little man?”
    Michael looked over to where the boy had been, as if expecting to find an answer there. Then he turned back toward Hope and shrugged. “When I was his age, all I wanted was to be treated like an adult, so I thought I would give that a try.”
    “But he’s still just a boy,” Hope pointed out.
    “ I know that, and you know that, but he thinks he’s a man. Trust me,” Michael said.
    Hope had to admit that what Michael had done worked, so who was she to argue? But really, what was wrong with staying a child for as long as possible? Being an adult was so much more confusing. Just look at her and Michael. She