Page 35 of Entrancing the Earl
Looking particularly striking in his tweed country clothes, the earl narrowed his midnight eyes. “Do the pair of you trust no one?”
Iona glared back. “Not if there’s any chance others will be harmed. My stepfather is a desperate man.”
“And you think it’s safer here than Wystan?” he demanded, as if insulted—as if it mattered to him.
She desperately wanted her safety to matter to him, but his pride was probably more affected. She responded with tartness, enforcing her distance. “No. We needed time together to plan our next move. If you’re truly interested in helping, we can proceed with our plans. Is there any way to determine if Mr. Winter has the funds to pay the reward? I dislike relying on rumor and braggadocio.”
Surprisingly, Maxwell Ives replied. “My man of business is on his honeymoon, but I’ve had one of his associates look into the reward situation. With a little persuasion, Craigmore has placed the ten thousand pounds into a bank account, with an Arthur Winter as the signee. If the gentleman really is Winter, he’s worth several fortunes.”
As if she’d been summoned, Lydia strolled into the room, looking stern. “No one interrogates my staff except me.” She turned to Iona. “Are you Isobel or Iona?”
“Iona.” She curtsied. The Librarian was an extremely perceptive soul.
“And she’s interrogatingus,” the earl said in disgust. “May we all sit now? I have a feeling I’ll not like anything she says.”
“I’ve sent for tea. I needed a break anyway. Iona, have a seat. I’m glad to see you’ve finally come to your senses and are ready to ask for help.”
Lydia took a seat on one of the leather chairs and put her feet up on an ottoman. “I’m not inclined to ladylike grace,” she told Gerard, unapologetically.
“You are far more gracious than most of the females in my family,” he replied, still sounding irritable.
Iona gathered from his glare that she was included in that company, although if she were part of his family, the relationship dated back to the medieval era.
“I’ve never seen our lordly Ives express anything except cool composure,” Max said with a laugh. “I think you’re crawling under his skin, my lady.”
Iona hoped she disturbed Ives as much as he disturbed her, but irritableness was not the reaction she preferred. She took a chair some distance from where the earl leaned against the mantel with unconscious, virile, grace, even in his country attire.
“Bell and I did not think we needed help when we set out,” she said primly. “We meant only to wait until Mr. Winter went away. We did not count on his determination to buy what he can’t have.”
She gritted her teeth when the earl unfolded himself from the mantel to pull up a chair beside her. His masculine scent drew her like a bee to lavender. She sensibly looked toward Lydia and not the man at her side.
“You are of age,” the Librarian insisted. “Your stepfather cannot force you to marry against your will.”
“But he can make our lives even more miserable than they already are. We thought it might be more agreeable to make our own way for a while. I do not miss Craigmore in the least. If I didn’t fear for Bell’s safety, I would have stayed in Wystan.”
“So now that you know we won’t turn you in for the reward, you’ll go back?” Ives asked, not sounding in the least hopeful.
“No, now that I’ve had a taste of freedom, I mean to keep it.” And she meant it. She was tired of dodging and hiding. “Short of killing Mortimer, freedom means I need money—enough to dower Bell and to pay Mortimer to stay away. To that end, I’ve written the queen for my letters patent. I shall sell my title to the highest bidder, with the understanding that the marriage is in name only.”
Bell had been the one to come up with thehighest biddernotion. She was quite good with money. Iona sat back and waited for the explosion.
Instead, the men sat there and glowered, and Lydia pursed her lips in thought.
“An interesting solution, certainly,” the Librarian said as a tea tray was carried in. “Are annulments still allowed?”
Iona’s lips quirked. “I like the way you think, but any man stupid enough not to include a clause to that effect deserves to be robbed. No, I mean to do this honestly. I’m not a love and marriage sort.”
Although she was most definitely interested in certain aspects of the wedded state—just not with a boring toad like Arthur Winter.
“Honest but mercenary,” Maxwell Ives muttered. “What if I just give you ten thousand pounds?”
That shocked her, and it took a moment before she could recover and shake her head. “That’s very generous, but I recommend loaning Lord Ives the sum he needs to repair his roof. I intend to demand a larger settlement than that, plus a monthly stipend. I will not sell myself cheaply.”
“That almost guarantees Winter will win,” the earl pointed out. “No one else is insane enough to want a worthless title or stupid enough to believe he’ll buy an earldom.”
“Unfortunately true,” Iona agreed with a shrug. “But if I say we must advertise in America and Europe before deciding, I can hope he’ll agree to almost anything for a pre-emptive bid.”
Silently, the earl reached for his whisky instead of the tea.
