Page 42 of Entrancing the Earl
He even engaged his host in a discussion of the artifacts found in the medieval tenement demolition and still couldn’t reduce his awareness of Iona. She talked excitedly with the viscount’s wife about a collection of photographs they studied—not giving him a second glance.
He should be miffed that she ignored him, but he suspected she was doing the same as he—attempting to pretend that kiss never happened.
His loins told him otherwise.
Viscount Dare led Lady Iona into dinner, and Gerard held out his elbow for Azmin, Lady Dare. A laughing minx with huge dark eyes, she always appeared to know things he didn’t. Women were a damned annoyance.
“We should let Lady Iona wear her male costume when we have some of Zane’s students over to dinner, let her learn to blend in,” Azmin said in amusement. “We cannot expect her to hide all alone with only us for company.”
“I should like to attend the gambling hell where my stepfather and his cronies lurk,” Iona asserted as they took their seats at the dinner table. “The sooner I can end his tyranny, the sooner I can go home. I can’t be useful sitting here, twiddling my thumbs.”
Instead of leaning back in his chair, casually dangling a wine glass, Gerard leaned forward and all but broke the glass stem. “You in no way, manner, or form resemble a man,” he argued. “You’d be mocked, knocked down, and thrown out of any gambling establishment. Forget that notion.”
“Then I’ll wear rouge and kohl and naughty dresses and go as your courtesan,” she countered, daring him with those big, liquid-gold eyes.
“I’m not planning on attending gambling hells. I’ll be entertaining lawyers. You may go with me, if you wish—not dressed as a man or a courtesan.” He stabbed his butter and tore a hole in his bread.
“Certainly. I expect to dictate my wishes for my future. But those meetings cannot last all day. Perhaps I could visit a library and see if there are any newer books on beekeeping.” She demurely sipped her soup.
Gerard wasn’t fooled. “You will not go dressed as a student!”
“I am not yours to command,” she reminded him. “And if they admit females, then I shall happily go as myself. I doubt Mortimer will be looking in the library for me.”
Treasure! Use your brain, boy.
He couldn’t very well respond to a voice in his head, but he’d dearly like to ask how an obnoxious, penniless Malcolm could be a treasure. Gerard had pretty much determined the old soldier didn’t mean real coin, to his disappointment.
“You could wear your student costume and go with Zane and Gerard to the demolition site,” Azmin said helpfully. “No one will notice one more student wandering about. I’m not sure what the fascination is with old tools and broken pottery, but there might be hidden coins or jewels, I suppose.”
Gerard couldn’t help himself. He waited to see Iona’s reaction to that insane proposal.
She nibbled her bread and thought about it. “It sounds quite filthy and not the kind of place I would drag my new petticoat, but it should be interesting to see. In fact, I’d love to explore the whole area. It’s only a mile from the palace to the castle, correct? I can walk that easily. A guide would be lovely, so I understand the history I’m seeing.”
“You’re interested in history?” Gerard heard himself saying, much to his dismay. He knew better than to express interest in any topic a woman brought up.
“I enjoyed it in school. I can’t say that I’ve ever been given any other opportunity. So, yes, I’d like to learn more. I simply must be careful not to be noticed by my stepfather or his spies, so the student guise will have to suffice.”
His cousin Zane chuckled. “I’d say give her over to Phoebe, but she’s up to her ears in animals and students at her new veterinary school.”
“And I’m working with the newspaper on an article about the lack of resources for women whose husbands mistreat them. The editor is not wholly sympathetic, so I have to monitor every aspect of the story. It should be done in a few days, but I will be busy until then,” Azmin said apologetically.
“I do not expect anyone to entertain me,” the intrepid countess protested. “I was hoping perhaps a student of history might be interested in accompanying me.”
“If you wore that gown, they’d be most interested,” Gerard said dryly. “I don’t suppose you can acquire widow’s weeds? A nice thick veil should do the trick.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “That’s a rather obvious disguise if I’m seen leaving any Malcolm establishment. Mortimer’s spies might be watching.”
“I cannot believe the sot has the wherewithal to hire—”
The front doorbell resounded through the house.
“We’re not expecting anyone.” Dare lay down his utensils.
With a sigh, the countess removed her plate and vanished behind the baize servants’ door.
A young lad dressed in a uniform arrived with a silver platter. “A message from the Earl of Craigmore, my lord.”
Seventeen
