Page 62 of In Bed with the Earl

It was utter foolishness, built off the hopes of a young girl and her naivete.

Only ...

“What are you thinking, gel?” Bertha asked gruffly.

Do not even think about it ...

It was a quest born of foolishness ... fueled by desperation ...

“See after Livvie,” she said breathlessly. Racing over to the hook, she gathered her satchel once more. Perhaps if she explained her circumstances, and explained the importance of this story, he might relent, and she in turn might secure her post with Lowery—nay, better—some other respectable column.

Bertha groaned. “Don’t ever tell me you’re going to see him.”

Verity set her jaw. “That is precisely what I’m doing.”

And before the older woman could try and talk her out of her decision, Verity hurried from their apartments and set out for the most ruthless end of St. Giles.

Chapter 13

THE LONDONER

FORGIVEN!

The Lost Earl has found himself again fortunate ... this time by the magnanimity of Polite Society. The peerage has proven gracious in their willingness to overlook his mysterious—and certainly dark—past. They are eager to welcome him to Polite Society. If he wished it, that is ...

M. Fairpoint

Malcom was being hunted.

It wasn’t the first time in the course of his almost thirty years he’d found himself prey that a foe sought to capture.

It was, however, the first time he’d faced this particular type of adversary.

“As you can see, based on all the arguments I’ve enumerated here, my lord, I would make ...wewould make one another a most convenient match.”

Silence met that pronouncement. A pronouncement delivered in clear, soft English tones befitting a perfect English lady. Which there could be no doubt the elegantly attired, golden-haired woman opposite him in fact was.

That was, all except for the part of the lady asking a damned stranger to marry her.

A fact that was clearly not lost on the pained-looking maid hovering close to the lady’s shoulder.

“Ahem,” the young lady said. “If you would like me to continue with additional reasons you should consider an arrangement between us?”

“Even with that whole impressive list, there’smore, sweetheart?” Giles drawled.

The lady—Lady Denny ... Lady Denton ... or whatever the hell her name was—glared at Giles in the first real display of emotion she’d shown since her arrival. She immediately had her mask back in place. She turned to Malcom with a smile. “As I was saying, I can—”

“That won’t be necessary,” he quickly interrupted. He’d rather be the feast of hungry rats in the sewers of London than marry an English lady—this one, or any one.

The young woman scrambled to the edge of her seat. “But you’ve not considered all—”

Malcom leveled her with a look that immediately quelled the remainder of her protestations. Her cheeks went white, and she, not for the first time since her arrival, avoided his gaze. As every woman who’d walked through his doors had been wont to do.

Nay, there’d been one who’d been fearless and unapologetically bold in their every dealing.

Pushing back unwanted thoughts of Verity Lovelace, Malcom stood. “We’re done here,” he said coolly.

The lady hesitated and then, with the regal bearing of a princess, shoved to her feet. “As you wish, my lord.” Gathering up her bonnet, she set it atop her head, unhurriedly tied it at her chin, and stalked off.

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