Read Online The Convenient Bride by Teresa McCarthy - Free Book Online
Authors: Teresa McCarthy
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his grin twisting her heart
until she could barely think anymore. He was remembering yesterday. She could
see it in that gaze. Drat him and his alluring smirk. Alistair had never made
her feel like this.
"Your
mother is well?" he asked politely, the smile slowly fading as if he
suddenly remembered her mother.
It was
all Mama's fault, she told herself. Lady Garland should never have mentioned
marriage to this man.
Briana
wanted to leave the room immediately. The poor lord had to act like the perfect
gentleman and sit with her until Emily appeared.
But if
Briana knew anything about Agatha, the lady would make certain Emily was late.
Not only that, her godmother would make certain to detain the maid who was to
clean up the mess as well.
"My
mother is ill with the headaches, my lord. She is resting in the country. I am
staying with my godmother and the earl until the end of the Season."
He
nodded, glancing up at the mantel clock. It seemed he was contemplating the
weight of the world. Yesterday didn't mean anything to him. What a goose she
had been even thinking it had.
Little
did she know that in the back of Clayton's mind she was a slim but potential
candidate for his bride, even though Emily had commanded otherwise.
Oh,
Clayton knew he would never love Miss Garland. But he could respect her. She
had spirit, gentleness, and intellect, all wrapped tightly into one neat little
package. If Emily didn't come through with a list, he was definitely putting
Miss Garland on his.
"The,
uh, weather has been rather fair for June," he said, wondering what was
going on inside that little red head.
"Yes,
it has been rather fair."
He
tapped a finger against his knee. "Your mother is faring better, I
presume?"
He
distinctly remembered the summers this female had spent at Elbourne Hall.
Briana Garland had been a sweet, biddable girl without a spiteful bone in her
body. Her meekness had amused him more than once during those carefree years.
But now, well, she seemed different. A bit more unyielding than he remembered,
and definitely able to stand on her own two feet. She had pluck.
Two
lovely green eyes stared back at him, and a strange sensation swept through
him. "Better? I believe I mentioned that my mother is recuperating in the
country, my lord," she said stiffly. "And she is not better."
"Ah,
I see."
"Headaches!"
"Yes,
headaches will do that." He sat up straighter. Now, this was quite odd.
The lady seemed rather annoyed with him.
After a
few more minutes of dull conversation, the maid finally came in to clean up the
mess, bringing another round of tea. Miss Garland put her hand to the pot.
"May I pour?"
Clayton
looked up into those stubborn green eyes and felt a rush of pleasure. When had
the female become so alluring?
Before
he could answer, Nigel gave an obnoxious bark and decided to jump between them.
With a horrified yelp from Miss Garland, the teapot flew from her hand toward
Clayton's lap.
"Yeooooow!"
Clayton shot out of his chair as hot tea splashed across his breeches. He
slapped at his thighs, feeling the burning liquid seep into his skin like
flaming coals from hell.
Nigel
howled while Miss Garland jumped up and down, dabbing a handkerchief to his
legs.
"I
am fine, madam," he hissed between his teeth. "Quite fine!"
She
pulled back, her cheeks turning pink. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to throw
it at you."
Clayton
backed up, his hands in the air. "Just stay where you are." He was
trying desperately not to curse.
Two
green eyes went wide. "It's not as if I meant to do it!"
Clayton
eyed her suspiciously, his legs still smoldering. "Of course not," he
said through a stiff jaw.
Her lips
began to tremble. By Jove, he hated tears. "There is no reason to
cry."
Her
delicate brows narrowed. "I am not crying!"
"Well,
where the devil is Emily?"
"You
do not have to shout!"
"I
am not shouting!" he yelled back.
Nigel
barked.
"You
are shouting, my lord!"
Clayton
bit back another curse as he watched the lady's
until she could barely think anymore. He was remembering yesterday. She could
see it in that gaze. Drat him and his alluring smirk. Alistair had never made
her feel like this.
"Your
mother is well?" he asked politely, the smile slowly fading as if he
suddenly remembered her mother.
It was
all Mama's fault, she told herself. Lady Garland should never have mentioned
marriage to this man.
Briana
wanted to leave the room immediately. The poor lord had to act like the perfect
gentleman and sit with her until Emily appeared.
But if
Briana knew anything about Agatha, the lady would make certain Emily was late.
Not only that, her godmother would make certain to detain the maid who was to
clean up the mess as well.
"My
mother is ill with the headaches, my lord. She is resting in the country. I am
staying with my godmother and the earl until the end of the Season."
He
nodded, glancing up at the mantel clock. It seemed he was contemplating the
weight of the world. Yesterday didn't mean anything to him. What a goose she
had been even thinking it had.
Little
did she know that in the back of Clayton's mind she was a slim but potential
candidate for his bride, even though Emily had commanded otherwise.
Oh,
Clayton knew he would never love Miss Garland. But he could respect her. She
had spirit, gentleness, and intellect, all wrapped tightly into one neat little
package. If Emily didn't come through with a list, he was definitely putting
Miss Garland on his.
"The,
uh, weather has been rather fair for June," he said, wondering what was
going on inside that little red head.
"Yes,
it has been rather fair."
He
tapped a finger against his knee. "Your mother is faring better, I
presume?"
He
distinctly remembered the summers this female had spent at Elbourne Hall.
Briana Garland had been a sweet, biddable girl without a spiteful bone in her
body. Her meekness had amused him more than once during those carefree years.
But now, well, she seemed different. A bit more unyielding than he remembered,
and definitely able to stand on her own two feet. She had pluck.
Two
lovely green eyes stared back at him, and a strange sensation swept through
him. "Better? I believe I mentioned that my mother is recuperating in the
country, my lord," she said stiffly. "And she is not better."
"Ah,
I see."
"Headaches!"
"Yes,
headaches will do that." He sat up straighter. Now, this was quite odd.
The lady seemed rather annoyed with him.
After a
few more minutes of dull conversation, the maid finally came in to clean up the
mess, bringing another round of tea. Miss Garland put her hand to the pot.
"May I pour?"
Clayton
looked up into those stubborn green eyes and felt a rush of pleasure. When had
the female become so alluring?
Before
he could answer, Nigel gave an obnoxious bark and decided to jump between them.
With a horrified yelp from Miss Garland, the teapot flew from her hand toward
Clayton's lap.
"Yeooooow!"
Clayton shot out of his chair as hot tea splashed across his breeches. He
slapped at his thighs, feeling the burning liquid seep into his skin like
flaming coals from hell.
Nigel
howled while Miss Garland jumped up and down, dabbing a handkerchief to his
legs.
"I
am fine, madam," he hissed between his teeth. "Quite fine!"
She
pulled back, her cheeks turning pink. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to throw
it at you."
Clayton
backed up, his hands in the air. "Just stay where you are." He was
trying desperately not to curse.
Two
green eyes went wide. "It's not as if I meant to do it!"
Clayton
eyed her suspiciously, his legs still smoldering. "Of course not," he
said through a stiff jaw.
Her lips
began to tremble. By Jove, he hated tears. "There is no reason to
cry."
Her
delicate brows narrowed. "I am not crying!"
"Well,
where the devil is Emily?"
"You
do not have to shout!"
"I
am not shouting!" he yelled back.
Nigel
barked.
"You
are shouting, my lord!"
Clayton
bit back another curse as he watched the lady's
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