Page 19 of Bound By her Earl

Her friends were not suitably impressed.

“Yes, he did say he was going to,” Frances observed.

“Yes,” Emily scoffed, “but then I forbade him from doing it.”

“Right, but you were being insane,” Diana opined.

Emily opened her mouth to argue with this blatant assassination of her character but was halted by Frances’ thoughtful look.

“Youwerebeing insane,” Frances observed as if this somehow had more meaning coming from her. “And that’s very unlike you, Emily.”

“Thank you,” Emily said, eyes narrowed as she did not trust this compliment.

“Which rather makes me wonderwhyyou were acting so strangely,” Frances continued, proving that Emily should always trust her instincts.

Diana gasped so sharply that Emily feared, for a heart-stopping instant, that her friend was going into labor. But Diana merely sat up straight (with some difficulty) and pointed an accusing finger at Emily.

“You,” she said dramatically, “have atendrefor the Earl of Moore!”

Emily felt quite convinced that the look on her face was one of abject horror.

“Have you—” she paused, her head whipping around to look at Frances, who seemed to be struggling with the urge to laugh. “Havebothof you lost leave of your senses?” She pointed at Diana even as she addressed Frances. “I can imagine such a thing coming from her—the other day she wept because she had ‘lost’ her favorite hatpin when she was holding it in her hand?—”

“That was an isolated incident, and it’s very rude of you to bring it up,” Diana said primly. “I am in a delicate condition.”

“—butyou,Frances?” Emily went on, exasperated. “You’re meant to be the sensible one.”

“Am I?” asked Frances, seeming flattered. “Well, that’s quite nice.”

Emily simply could not take it anymore. She let out an incoherent sound of pure frustration. This proved too much for her friends, who lost themselves to helpless laughter. After a long moment of glaring at them furiously—which only led them to laugh all the more—Emily found her irritation dissipating until she, too, was chuckling at her own overblown reaction.

“Very well,” she allowed. “Perhaps I was atadless polite to him than I could have been.” Frances snorted delicately. “But he was very rude to me first and therefore deserved it,” she finished with a decisive nod.

Diana shrugged. “Well, Andrew terrorized him a bit after you ran away—walked away elegantly,” she amended when Emily shot her an aggrieved look. “Your earl looked quite flustered over it.”

Emily declined to object over fashioning the Earl of Mooreherearl as it seemed only likely to open her up to further teasing.

“If Andrew terrorized me, I would faint,” Frances muttered.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” Diana said with a dreamy sort of sigh that made Emily and Frances exchange alarmed looks. Diana caught the exchange and let out an embarrassed little cough. “Sorry.”

“Right,” Frances said. “So back toEmily.” Diana nodded eagerly. “Is he still courting Amanda, then?”

The question made something twist in Emily’s stomach. Annoyance, probably. That was probably what that feeling was.

“I suppose so,” she said. “He hasn’t come to call again, but he sent some flowers. Respectable, neither too paltry nor too flashy,” she added before either of her friends could ask. “But…Oh, I don’t know.” She tossed up her hands. “He just isn’trightfor Amanda. I know it.”

Frances’ mouth was twisted thoughtfully. “Perhaps you’re right,” she said absently, fidgeting with the remnants of her biscuit. “Perhaps he isn’t the right match for Amanda at all…”

As their conversation turned to other matters, Emily wondered if she’d imagined the emphasis Frances had placed on her sister’s name…

While it was traditional for heirs to a title to attend Oxford, it was also traditional that they make an utter hash of their studies. The things future earls had to learn weren’t found in a university lecture hall; they were taught by their fathers, their father’s stewards, and by other titled gentleman who spent their lives running sprawling estates. Despite this, Benedict had taken a first in math. He’d always had a head for math.

Which was why it was ridiculous that he could not make the bloody expense ledger add up.

“What in the fresh hell is going on,” he growled at the book, as if swearing were likely to accomplish what several accountings of the figures had not.

He was half tempted to chuck the bloody thing into the fire. The earldom wasn’t in debt. He had enough money. Who cared if he knew how much?

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