Read Online Ten Ways to Be Adored When Landing a Lord by Sarah MacLean - Free Book Online
Authors: Sarah MacLean
Tags: Historical Romance
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”
Nick shook his head. “No.”
“She is hiding something.”
Nick gave a single curt nod. “And not very well.” He watched her, noting the slight limp in her gait as she rushed across the street and into a nearby building.
“It has been years since I’ve seen that.”
Nick did not shift his attention from Isabel. “Seen what? ”
“The face of the bulan.”
Several long moments passed before Nick turned to Rock.
“A hundred pounds says we’ve found her.”
Rock shook his head. “I’m not taking that bet.”
Four
----
S everal hours later, Nick and Rock stood in the wide circular drive of Townsend Park. The country seat of the Earl of Reddich was a large and stately home, three stories high, with tall, arching windows and a façade that spoke of the earldom’s rather more impressive past than its current situation indicated.
There was a quiet stillness to the house that Nick found intriguing—it was either the product of a sleepy country house that rarely saw visitors, or something not at all sleepy and infinitely more interesting. If the mistress of Townsend Park was any indication, Nick’s wager was on the latter option. If his suspicions were correct, he was about to find both the women for whom he was looking.
That is, assuming that he was ever allowed inside the house.
He and Rock had been standing at the foot of the steps leading up to the manor, reins in hand, waiting for a groomsman or a footman to acknowledge their arrival for several minutes.
At this point, neither seemed very likely.
“You realize that we look like fools.” Rock said dryly, leading his horse to the edge of the drive, where he could lean against the side of the wide stone steps to the door of the house. The black seemed to sense his master’s disapproval, pawing at the ground once with an impatient snort.
“We cannot look like fools if we do not have an audience to label us as such. She did not want us here today. She likely doesn’t have servants posted.”
Rock leveled Nick with a frank look. “I see that your insistence upon saving women who are capable of taking care of themselves remains fully intact.”
Nick ignored the words, tossing his reins to the Turk and starting up the stairs, two steps at a time.
Rock followed his movements, curiosity getting the better of him. “What do you mean to do?”
Nick turned from his position in front of the wide oak door with a wry smile. “Why, I mean to do what any good gentleman would do in this situation. I mean to knock.”
Rock crossed his arms over his chest. “This should be entertaining, if nothing else.”
Nick raised the large metal doorknocker and let it fall with an ominous clang, trying to recall the last time he had used a doorknocker.
Before he could entertain the question, however, the door opened. For a very brief moment Nick thought it had done so on its own, until he looked down into a pair of familiar brown eyes, set in the face of a young boy. A young boy with a face covered in what looked suspiciously like strawberry jam.
Nick was not entirely certain how to proceed under such circumstances, but, before he could say anything at all, the child took matters into his own hands.
The door slammed shut as quickly as it had opened.
“THERE’S A MAN AT THE DOOR!”
The screech was loud enough to carry clearly through the thick oak, and Nick, surprised, turned to look back at Rock to confirm that it had all taken place as he thought.
His friend was quaking with deep, rumbling laughter.
“I see you are going to be a great help.”
With a final chuckle, Rock raised one hand in solidarity. “I assure you, once you have breached the castle defenses, I shall throw my full support behind you.”
Nick turned back to the door and, after a long moment of consideration, pressed his ear to the oak, as though he might be able to hear what was going on behind it. Rock let out a bark of laughter at the action, and Nick waved him silent,
Nick shook his head. “No.”
“She is hiding something.”
Nick gave a single curt nod. “And not very well.” He watched her, noting the slight limp in her gait as she rushed across the street and into a nearby building.
“It has been years since I’ve seen that.”
Nick did not shift his attention from Isabel. “Seen what? ”
“The face of the bulan.”
Several long moments passed before Nick turned to Rock.
“A hundred pounds says we’ve found her.”
Rock shook his head. “I’m not taking that bet.”
Four
----
S everal hours later, Nick and Rock stood in the wide circular drive of Townsend Park. The country seat of the Earl of Reddich was a large and stately home, three stories high, with tall, arching windows and a façade that spoke of the earldom’s rather more impressive past than its current situation indicated.
There was a quiet stillness to the house that Nick found intriguing—it was either the product of a sleepy country house that rarely saw visitors, or something not at all sleepy and infinitely more interesting. If the mistress of Townsend Park was any indication, Nick’s wager was on the latter option. If his suspicions were correct, he was about to find both the women for whom he was looking.
That is, assuming that he was ever allowed inside the house.
He and Rock had been standing at the foot of the steps leading up to the manor, reins in hand, waiting for a groomsman or a footman to acknowledge their arrival for several minutes.
At this point, neither seemed very likely.
“You realize that we look like fools.” Rock said dryly, leading his horse to the edge of the drive, where he could lean against the side of the wide stone steps to the door of the house. The black seemed to sense his master’s disapproval, pawing at the ground once with an impatient snort.
“We cannot look like fools if we do not have an audience to label us as such. She did not want us here today. She likely doesn’t have servants posted.”
Rock leveled Nick with a frank look. “I see that your insistence upon saving women who are capable of taking care of themselves remains fully intact.”
Nick ignored the words, tossing his reins to the Turk and starting up the stairs, two steps at a time.
Rock followed his movements, curiosity getting the better of him. “What do you mean to do?”
Nick turned from his position in front of the wide oak door with a wry smile. “Why, I mean to do what any good gentleman would do in this situation. I mean to knock.”
Rock crossed his arms over his chest. “This should be entertaining, if nothing else.”
Nick raised the large metal doorknocker and let it fall with an ominous clang, trying to recall the last time he had used a doorknocker.
Before he could entertain the question, however, the door opened. For a very brief moment Nick thought it had done so on its own, until he looked down into a pair of familiar brown eyes, set in the face of a young boy. A young boy with a face covered in what looked suspiciously like strawberry jam.
Nick was not entirely certain how to proceed under such circumstances, but, before he could say anything at all, the child took matters into his own hands.
The door slammed shut as quickly as it had opened.
“THERE’S A MAN AT THE DOOR!”
The screech was loud enough to carry clearly through the thick oak, and Nick, surprised, turned to look back at Rock to confirm that it had all taken place as he thought.
His friend was quaking with deep, rumbling laughter.
“I see you are going to be a great help.”
With a final chuckle, Rock raised one hand in solidarity. “I assure you, once you have breached the castle defenses, I shall throw my full support behind you.”
Nick turned back to the door and, after a long moment of consideration, pressed his ear to the oak, as though he might be able to hear what was going on behind it. Rock let out a bark of laughter at the action, and Nick waved him silent,
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