Page 35 of Tempting the Earl

Ainsworth kept her attention on Caillie as the lass rolled her eyes before replying.

“Not many, I’m afraid,” she noted honestly, because of course she did. Then she shrugged. “I like music and dancing and war games, I suppose.”

“War games?” the earl asked.

Ainsworth refused to look at him, but she felt the flicker of his gaze.

“Aye,” Caillie confirmed with a firm nod as she leaned forward. “It’s something we do whenever we come up to a significant battle in our history lessons. Mr. Norris whittled enough soldiers for two full armies and Worthy and I use them to reenact the battles. Sometimes we follow the strategies as they’d actually been employed. But it’s so much more fun when we create our own strategies to see if we couldnae be cleverer than those stuffy old generals.”

Ainsworth held herself still as the earl turned his gaze to her. She didn’t want to look back at him, but refusing to do so now would only look cowardly. No doubt he’d have a lot to say about her unconventional teaching methods. They certainly wouldn’t be considered appropriate for a young lady’s education which was expected to focus on the bare minimum of writing, history, and mathematics while focusing most intently on those skills required to run a household.

But when she lifted her chin to meet the earl’s stare with defiance, she was surprised to hear him say in a low tone, “I wish I’d had Miss Morgan as my tutor.”

Ainsworth’s belly gave an odd flip.

“She does have a way of making even the most boring subject entertaining,” the lass agreed. “Like maths. When I was verra young, all of my arithmetic lessons were conducted in song.”

The corner of the earl’s mouth twitched. “I’d love to hear one of your arithmetic songs.”

Caillie was already taking a deep breath to start singing when Ainsworth lifted a hand to stop her, interjecting quickly, “I dinnae think that’ll be necessary, lass.”

Caillie’s eyes lit up with laughter and Ainsworth realized the child was intentionally teasing her. She gave her a fiercely stern look, which only inspired the naughty child to stick out her tongue.

Ainsworth would have responded in kind if she wasn’t immediately distracted by the sound of the earl’s warm and husky chuckle. Her entire body seemed to vibrate with the sound and it was all she could do not to turn and stare at him in hopes he’d make the sound again.

“It sounds wonderful. Far better than my own experience,” he noted with a subtle drop in his voice.

“Don’t tell me you got your knuckles rapped on occasion,” Ainsworth said, hoping to shift the conversation away from her unorthodox lessons. “I cannae imagine you were anything but an exemplary student, obeying every rule and excelling at every task.”

She’d meant the words to be light and teasing but for some reason, they caused an immediate shift in his manner. That bluidy stern façade dropped swiftly back in place as he cleared his throat.

“You’re quite right, Miss Morgan. There were strict rules governing every aspect of my childhood, including my education.” His eyes lifted to find hers as he added in a tone that might have sounded rather harsh if it weren’t so painfully flat, “And I followed every single one.”

Ainsworth suddenly understood without him having to say that the consequences for behaving otherwise were likely far more dire than a rap on the knuckles. Her stomach twisted and she felt a sudden urge to apologize.

After clearing his throat, he gave Caillie a small smile. “You’re very lucky to have Miss Morgan.”

“Well,” Caillie said in a bright and optimistic tone, “now that you’re the earl, you get to make or break the rules however you wish.”

“Quite right,” he noted, his voice thoughtful and weighted. “Shall I start by insisting that no one can leave this table until they’ve eaten at least three biscuits?”

Caillie giggled. “That means both of you must eat two more,” the lass observed. Then she grinned. “On the other hand, it appears I’m free to go as I please.”

Before Ainsworth could offer a quick argument, the lass leapt to her feet and dashed off into the garden, laughing with mischievous delight.

“The lass knows verra well she still needs to be properly excused,” Ainsworth muttered under her breath.

The earl cleared his throat as he reached for a biscuit. “I don’t believe I initiated that rule, Miss Morgan.”

Narrowing her eyes, Ainsworth peered across the table at him. Why did his voice drop to such a low tone with that statement? And why did he appear to be deliberately avoiding her gaze as he popped the sweet treat into his mouth? And why in heaven’s name did her heart give such an odd little leap at the sight of his tongue darting out to catch a crumb at the corner of his lips?

Refusing to acknowledge the very obvious answer to her last unspoken question, Ainsworth focused on fulfilling her biscuit quota while looking anywhere but at the earl. Gratefully, he didn’t try to engage her in further conversation and as soon as she was able to, she rose to her feet.

Though she was tempted to run off much as Caillie had done, she refrained. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord.”

“Of course,” he replied evenly, having stood as soon as she did. When she would have turned and walked away, he added, “I hope you’ll reconsider accepting Mrs. Bentley’s invitation.”

Curious as to why he’d concern himself with such a thing, she asked, “Why?”

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