Page 21 of Tempting the Earl

A few minutes later they headed down the stairs to the front door.

The butler, whom Ainsworth had learned from Mrs. Athens went by the name Shaw, was there to open the door with a flourish. Ainsworth smiled at the large man’s unexpected tendency toward subtle dramatics.

“Thank you, Shaw,” she said cordially as she crossed the threshold to step out into the hazy gray London morning.

She breathed deep, drawing the fresh air into her bones. Sunshine would have been lovely, but in all honesty, the mist felt a bit more like home.

“Shall we?” she asked in a lighter tone as Caillie and Bramble skipped down the steps in front of her.

“Indeed.”

The answer came from behind her in a voice she hadn’t expected to hear so early in the day. The single word in the earl’s even, emotionless baritone shouldn’t have sparked so much sensation through her body. But it did.

A tingle across her nape. A subtle twist in her belly. And an annoying little catch in her breath.

Damn him for ruining such a promising morning excursion. She didn’t bother hiding her scowl when she looked over her shoulder as he stepped up behind her. He didn’t see it, however, since his attention was on his hands while he tugged on his gloves. As she waited for him to notice her displeasure at his intrusion, a soft brush of wind tousled the sandy waves of his hair until a thick lock fell over his forehead, giving him an unexpectedly rakish appearance.

But only for a moment.

He immediately lifted his hand to brush the lock back into place just as Shaw stepped into the open doorway behind him and extended his top hat.

Ainsworth scowled again as the fine hat was placed firmly atop the earl’s head.

It was in that second that he finally met her gaze.

When he noted her displeasure—though not for the reason she’d intended—there was a swift but subtle tensing of his handsome features.

She regretted that.

No, she didn’t. She darkened her scowl. “What are you doing, my lord?”

His eyebrows twitched, but his expression remained otherwise unreactive. “I’ll be accompanying you on your walk, Miss Morgan.”

A statement. Not a request.

She offered a false smile of assurance. “Not necessary. Mrs. Athens gave us directions. We shall be just fine on own.”

“Nevertheless.” He didn’t bother with a smile—false or otherwise—but simply stepped past her to join Caillie and Bramble on the sidewalk.

Irritation tightened her chest, but she had no choice but to accept the man’s escort. Refusing such a basic courtesy would be going a bit too far. Even for her.

As she descended the front steps, she swore to do her best to enjoy the day despite the earl’s intrusion.

The resolution didn’t last long, however, as Caillie broke the somewhat uneasy silence they’d all fallen into to ask the earl, “When will I meet my other brothers?”

The earl coughed lightly, obviously caught off guard by the unexpected inquiry.

Ainsworth hid her satisfaction at his momentary distress by pretending to admire a large oak across the street.

“Well,” the earl began, “you’ll be meeting Mr. Bentley and his wife on Wednesday when they join us for dinner.”

“He owns the gambling hell, right?”

Of course, the lass would remember that wee tidbit.

“He does.”

“What about the others?”

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