Read Online Ten Ways to Be Adored When Landing a Lord by Sarah MacLean - Free Book Online Page A

almost positive that he could hear frenzied whispers coming from inside the house.
    Stepping back, he reached once more for the knocker, but was interrupted before he could use it. “Milord?”
    He turned to find a tall, lanky boy in wool breeches, white shirtsleeves, and a dirty green waistcoat turning the corner from the side of the house. The boy wore a cap low on his brow, and Nick had a brief moment of questioning why the servant had not removed the hat before he realized that nothing about this estate seemed to operate normally.
    “We are here at the invitation of Lady Isabel.”
    The boy had reached the foot of the steps, and he paused. “Weren’t you supposed to come tomorrow?”
    Ignoring the insolent behavior—when had he ever been questioned by a servant?—Nick replied, “We are here now.”
    “You won’t find her inside.”
    “Is she not at home?”
    The boy leaned back on his heels, considering his words. “She is at home … but not inside.”
    Nick began to feel his temper fray. “Boy, I am not interested in playing games. Is your lady in? Or not?”
    The servant smiled then, a wide grin that seemed entirely unservantlike. “She is not in. She is out. On top of, more like.” The boy pointed up. “She is on the roof.”
    “She is on the roof.” Surely Nick had misunderstood.
    “Just so,” the groom said. “Shall I call her?”
    The question was so bizarre that it took Nick several seconds to process its meaning.
    Not so Rock. Unable to contain his own wide smile, the Turk said, “Yes, please. We should very much like you to call her.”
    The boy stepped back to the opposite edge of the drive, cupped his hands around his mouth, and called, “Lady Isabel! You have visitors!”
    Nick stepped back from the house himself then, Rock at his side, horses in tow. He stared upward, uncertain of what might come next, unwilling to accept the possibility that the lady he had met earlier in the day would have any reason to be on the roof of her ancestral home, three stories above the ground.
    Far above, a head poked over the edge of the house.
    It seemed Lady Isabel was, indeed, on the roof.
    Dear God. The woman had a death wish.
    The head disappeared for a moment, and Nick wondered if perhaps he was hallucinating. When it reappeared, he found himself disappointed that the whole afternoon was not a figment of his imagination.
    “You were not supposed to arrive until tomorrow.” The words carried down to him. “I am not receiving.”
    Rock gave a little bark of laughter and offered, “It appears we have found a woman who does not consider you so irresistible.”
    Nick cast a sidelong glance in the direction of his friend. “You are not helping.” Turning resolutely away from Rock, he called up, “It seems a good thing I came today, Lady Isabel. It appears you may need saving again.”
    The smile she offered was angelic—and entirely false. “I have survived twenty-four years without a keeper, my lord. I need not acquire one today.”
    He had an intense desire to fetch the infuriating woman down and show her precisely how dire her need for a keeper was. The thought had barely formed in his mind before it was chased away by a vision of the soft, beautiful woman in his arms that afternoon—entirely at his mercy. For a fleeting moment, he allowed the fantasy to run its natural course; she was lush and naked at his whim.
    He pushed the image away. There was nothing about this woman that was at his whim.
    “Considering you were nearly run down this morning and you are dangerously close to toppling off your roof now, forgive me if I do not share your certainty.”
    “I was nowhere near the edge before you arrived, Lord Nicholas. Should I fall, it will be entirely on your head.” She cocked her head thoughtfully. “Perhaps quite literally.”
    She disappeared again, and the groom actually snickered. Nick gave him a look of lordly disdain, which in no way served to intimidate the insolent pup.
    Rock