Page 21 of My Wicked Earl
“One quarter, one half, what does it matter? You would do well to hide the bit that slips into your words at times, for while it is charming, it reminds thetonthat you’ve lived more in Ireland than at Runshaw Park. You are an English earl. Pray do remember such.”
Colin shot her a rather frightening look. He did not care to be reminded that his upbringing served as a disadvantage in London and nearly everywhere else.
Donata did not scare easily. Good Lord if the Devil of Dunbar in a foul temper didn’t put her off, there was little the Cursed Earl could do to frighten her.
“Now, if you are quite done interrupting me?” She stomped her cane this time more forcefully.
“I am.” The words were crisp and coldly patrician. One would never know that Colin had ever set foot in Ireland. The upper-class accent was perfect.
“Good. I have narrowed it down to several girls based on your requirements. However, I feel the first two names are your best chance for expediency.”
Donata dangled the bit of stationery before Miranda’s nose like a carrot before a mule. “See if you agree with my assessments.”
Miranda took the paper between her fingertips, holding it as if it were a poison snake. Carefully, she placed Lord Thurston beside her on the couch, all of her attention on Donata’s list. Scanning the page, her eyes widened before looking up at Donata.
“Lady Helen—”
Donata snatched back the list before Miranda could finish her sentence. Settling herself more comfortably, she produced a pair of spectacles from a pocket hidden in the folds of her gown. Perching the glasses on the end of her nose, she shook the paper.
“I agree Miranda, Lady Helenisanexcellentchoice. She’s very beautiful. Stunning, really. This is her first Season, but I understand Lord Cottingham is eager to see his daughter married as soon as possible.”
“What is the urgency to see her married?” Colin said in a bored tone, eyes cast down as he pretended to brush a spec of lint from his trousers.
Donata cocked her head, not surprised to see Colin glance at Miranda from beneath his lashes.
“There are several reasons. Lord Cottingham recently inherited the title, no more than two years ago. He was formerly a dairy farmer, albeit a very prosperous one. Perhaps you can discuss the finer points of cow and sheep farming with him.” Donata tried to keep the note of distaste from her words. “At any rate, Lord and Lady Cottingham seek a title for their only child.”
“And?” Colin shot her a skeptical look. “I’m sure there’s more.”
“Don’t be impertinent.” Donata pushed the end of her cane against the toe of Colin’s boot. “Lady Helen is a bit long in the tooth for a girl in her first Season. Most of the morediscriminatingfamilies are not enamored of Lady Helen. Her pedigree—”
“She’s considered coarse. Forward. Ill-mannered,” Miranda interrupted gleefully. “Overindulged.”
“Well, she is an only child, dear. And, she did not have the benefits of a refined upbringing as you did. She is quite lovely.”
“With an odd fascination for birds,” Miranda snapped back.
“Baron Masters,” Donata interrupted Miranda’s tirade of the unsuitability of Lady Helen, “as well as several other young gentlemen in much more dire financial straits then you, are sniffing around Lady Helen, no doubt smelling blood in the water. Lady Cottingham is ambitious. She wishes her daughter to be a countess. Lady Cottingham is much too practical to believe in curses, and considering her own lineage, she is not concerned with your Irish blood. Her dowry is twenty-five thousand pounds.”
It would have to be, Donata surmised uncharitably. The girl was spoiled with an appalling lack of discretion. The Cottingham’s sense of urgency was due to the fact that their daughter had the makings of a spectacular scandal and would ruin herself if she wasn’t wed soon. Baron Masters had been the frontrunner for Lady Helen’s hand, until Lord Kilmaire arrived in London.
“She sounds…adequate. Who is the other?”
“Miss Margaret Lainscott. A lovely girl. Considered a bit plain and more intelligent than she should be. As wealthy as Lady Helen, she is the sole heir to father’s fortune. Tin mining, I believe. Poor man died during a cave in. Since that time, she’s lived with her aunt.”
“You can’t be serious, Grandmother.” Miranda piped up.
“I am. She is the daughter of a miner, a mark against her that only a very large dowry could overlook, and of course, marrying a title.” She paused for a moment. “Lady Dobson is determined that Margaret marry as high as possible.”
Lord Kilmaire pinched his nose between his fingers as if striving for patience.
A wisp of a vengeful smile lingered on Miranda’s lips.
Before Donata could continue, a scratch at the door announced the arrival of Bevins with the tea cart. The butler rolled in the cart, laden with a steaming pot of tea and an assortment of finger sandwiches, scones, and biscuits. Bevins leaned heavily against the cart, using the device to hold himself upright as he moved into the room.
Donata was of a mind to stand up and wheel the cart in herself. Bevins did not have the strength of a kitten and was exhausting himself in London. She really must speak to Sutton about Bevins. It was well past time for the butler to retire, but he refused all offers to spend his remaining years at Gray Covington where he would be comfortable.
Donata suspected it had something to do with Gray Covington’s butler, Zander. Although she couldn’t imagine how the two men even knew each other.
