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Authors: Teresa McCarthy
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"Your
servant, Lord Stephen Clearbrook."
A small
squeak emerged from the girl's throat, which in seconds became a full bellow of
laughter. "My servant? Good gracious, you are my worst nightmare,
sir."
Stephen's
head snapped to attention and he narrowed his eyes on the female. Was she mad
as well as stupid? Irritation flowed through his veins. No woman had ever
laughed at him except his sister, and for her he made allowances because she
loved him. He stared back in contempt, waiting for Miss Shelby to compose
herself.
The look
on her face quickly changed back to one of horror.
Exasperated,
Stephen tried to soothe her. "I have no reason to touch you, Miss Shelby
... at least not yet."
Wide-eyed,
she hastened to her trunk as if the ornate piece of luggage would save her.
"Stay away from me."
"I
daresay, Miss Elizabeth Shelby, if you are who you say you are, then we have
more important matters to discuss than the question of servant and
master."
Two
delicate brows drew together. "We do, do we? Well, I must say, you are
full of surprises today. But believe me, I am in no mood to amuse you any further.
I have other matters to attend to. I thank you again for saving me from that
fall, but let me remind you, your gentlemanly act does not give you the right
to take over my life."
To his
continued surprise, the woman turned her back on him and began tugging at her
trunk, muttering something about too many gowns. Stephen stood rooted in place
and watched in silent amusement. She dragged the trunk about a foot before she
was panting heavily.
"And
where do you think you are going now?"
She sank
onto her trunk and glared at him. "Obviously my plans have changed. But I
warn you, your lordship, I may seem meek, but I am not about to sit here and
take your insults any longer. If you were a gentleman, you would leave."
A
gentleman? The devil of it was, that's precisely what had thrown him into this
fix in the first place.
Rising
from her seat, she pointed a small white finger at him. He almost laughed,
thinking her actions more like his sister's. Emily would adore her.
"Leave
me alone. Do you hear me? If you ever dare to interfere in my life again—"
"Interfere
in your life? Dear woman, you were the one who came toppling from the sky,
throwing me to the ground as if you were an anchor shot from the upstairs
window."
Anchor?
How apropos, he thought grimly, the realization of the situation slowly
penetrating his brain.
At least
the female had the grace to flush. "Well, yes," she said meekly,
"that was rather unwise of me. I should have waited until everyone had
left."
Stephen
swallowed a growl of anger. The impudence of the chit. She could have been
killed!
"And
I do appreciate your saving my life and taking the fall for me, my
lord"—her eyes narrowed into slits of rage— "but since you have also
ruined my life, I would say we are dead even. So it only signifies that we leave
it at that."
Ruined
her life? Stephen's lips curled. This was the end of his playing the controlled
gentleman. "Miss Shelby, dead even will never describe the situation that
is between us."
"Us?"
she hissed. "There is no us."
He
almost felt more sorry for her than he did for himself.
Almost.
"I have something I need to say, madam, and whether you like it or not,
you must hear it from me first."
Her chin
lifted, completely negating any first impression Stephen had of fragility.
"Say it and be done," she said in a clipped tone. "I never want
to see you again."
A
twisted smile flashed across his face. It was clear that this woman would never
go along with her father's edicts. As long as he gave the chit his side of
things, she would be on his side faster than the Prince Regent could spend a
guinea. It was to her benefit that they agreed on a plan.
"Well,
Miss Shelby, not seeing me again may be a bit hard to arrange."
"Oh,
say what you will and be done with it!"
"Ah,
I see you two have already met. Capital! Capital!"
Stephen
groaned at the sound
servant, Lord Stephen Clearbrook."
A small
squeak emerged from the girl's throat, which in seconds became a full bellow of
laughter. "My servant? Good gracious, you are my worst nightmare,
sir."
Stephen's
head snapped to attention and he narrowed his eyes on the female. Was she mad
as well as stupid? Irritation flowed through his veins. No woman had ever
laughed at him except his sister, and for her he made allowances because she
loved him. He stared back in contempt, waiting for Miss Shelby to compose
herself.
The look
on her face quickly changed back to one of horror.
Exasperated,
Stephen tried to soothe her. "I have no reason to touch you, Miss Shelby
... at least not yet."
Wide-eyed,
she hastened to her trunk as if the ornate piece of luggage would save her.
"Stay away from me."
"I
daresay, Miss Elizabeth Shelby, if you are who you say you are, then we have
more important matters to discuss than the question of servant and
master."
Two
delicate brows drew together. "We do, do we? Well, I must say, you are
full of surprises today. But believe me, I am in no mood to amuse you any further.
I have other matters to attend to. I thank you again for saving me from that
fall, but let me remind you, your gentlemanly act does not give you the right
to take over my life."
To his
continued surprise, the woman turned her back on him and began tugging at her
trunk, muttering something about too many gowns. Stephen stood rooted in place
and watched in silent amusement. She dragged the trunk about a foot before she
was panting heavily.
"And
where do you think you are going now?"
She sank
onto her trunk and glared at him. "Obviously my plans have changed. But I
warn you, your lordship, I may seem meek, but I am not about to sit here and
take your insults any longer. If you were a gentleman, you would leave."
A
gentleman? The devil of it was, that's precisely what had thrown him into this
fix in the first place.
Rising
from her seat, she pointed a small white finger at him. He almost laughed,
thinking her actions more like his sister's. Emily would adore her.
"Leave
me alone. Do you hear me? If you ever dare to interfere in my life again—"
"Interfere
in your life? Dear woman, you were the one who came toppling from the sky,
throwing me to the ground as if you were an anchor shot from the upstairs
window."
Anchor?
How apropos, he thought grimly, the realization of the situation slowly
penetrating his brain.
At least
the female had the grace to flush. "Well, yes," she said meekly,
"that was rather unwise of me. I should have waited until everyone had
left."
Stephen
swallowed a growl of anger. The impudence of the chit. She could have been
killed!
"And
I do appreciate your saving my life and taking the fall for me, my
lord"—her eyes narrowed into slits of rage— "but since you have also
ruined my life, I would say we are dead even. So it only signifies that we leave
it at that."
Ruined
her life? Stephen's lips curled. This was the end of his playing the controlled
gentleman. "Miss Shelby, dead even will never describe the situation that
is between us."
"Us?"
she hissed. "There is no us."
He
almost felt more sorry for her than he did for himself.
Almost.
"I have something I need to say, madam, and whether you like it or not,
you must hear it from me first."
Her chin
lifted, completely negating any first impression Stephen had of fragility.
"Say it and be done," she said in a clipped tone. "I never want
to see you again."
A
twisted smile flashed across his face. It was clear that this woman would never
go along with her father's edicts. As long as he gave the chit his side of
things, she would be on his side faster than the Prince Regent could spend a
guinea. It was to her benefit that they agreed on a plan.
"Well,
Miss Shelby, not seeing me again may be a bit hard to arrange."
"Oh,
say what you will and be done with it!"
"Ah,
I see you two have already met. Capital! Capital!"
Stephen
groaned at the sound
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