Page 23 of Tempting the Earl

What did he have to hide?

An earl. A lord of London. A man of wealth and title and power and the ability to do exactly as he pleased. A man with nothing to fear. He had every advantage in the world. Born a man into a world of guaranteed privilege, there was very little opposition to anything he desired.

Yet, she couldn’t help but sense some internal conflict resided within him. Something he was determined to keep from being exposed. The thought troubled her.

She didn’t realize she’d been so blatantly staring at him until he slid her a sideways glance and asked, “Is there something you wish to say, Miss Morgan?”

“What? Nay.” She shook her head and shifted her attention to scan for Caillie, who was now halfway across the open grass to the pond.

There was a long pause while their matched steps continued along the gravel path that led them on a less direct route to the water’s edge. The earl nodded to a passing couple in their middle years who gave him a polite greeting while shifting their gaze curiously to her. The very brief social encounter brought to mind one of her greatest concerns with Caillie coming to London.

“What do you intend to tell people?” she asked once the passing couple was out of hearing.

“Nothing,” he replied readily, suggesting he knew exactly to what she was referring.

She gave a harsh laugh. “You cannae just avoid the issue. It’ll only cause more speculation and rumor.”

A frown pulled at his mouth, drawing her gaze to the slight pout of his bottom lip.

Nay.

She swiftly altered the direction of her focus to her boots as they kicked out from her skirts one at a time before replanting themselves on the path.

“When I deem it necessary, I shall simply tell people the truth.”

“And when will that be?” she countered. “Once they’ve already made up their minds about her?”

The earl stopped and turned toward her. Looking down from his superior height, he asked in a curt tone that instantly put her on the defensive, “What would you have me do, Miss Morgan? Take out an ad in the Times announcing I’ve brought my illegitimate half sister home from the wilds of Scotland?”

Ainsworth gaped at him for a second, surprised by his uncharacteristic tone and offended by the choice of phrasing. Until she realized he’d said it that way very intentionally in order to annoy her.

She swiftly shifted her expression into a wide and disingenuous grin. “I’m just saying that even though my greatest concern is and always will be Caillie’s well-being, I have to wonder if you’ve thought about the scandal this situation will bring to your name.”

Something interesting happened in his expression then. It consisted of a brief lift of his brows, a quick press of his lips, and a bunching of the muscles along his jaw. Each element was subtle in the extreme, but when taken altogether, they caused a swift tightening in the center of Ainsworth’s body.

“I assure you, Miss Morgan, I’ve thought of everything.” He paused a beat before adding, “And the possibility of scandal couldn’t bother me less.”

Though she still believed he was exactly as uptight and refined and imperious as she’d pegged him to be...she also believed the threat of scandal was utterly lost on him.

It made no reasonable sense and for some inexplicable reason, that contradiction sent a wild little thrill up her spine. As she stood in momentary befuddlement, he lifted his gaze to peer over her bonnet at something in the distance.

His brows dipped slightly, shadowing the reflective blue of his eyes. “I suggest we continue to the pond. Before Bramble drags Miss Claybourne into it.”

“What?” Ainsworth twisted around to see the lass desperately holding to the end of the leash as Bramble stood in the water barking intently at a pair of swans swimming near the shore.

“Oh no,” Ainsworth whispered as she picked up her skirts in both hands and started across the grass in long strides.

The loyal collie no doubt thought the swans were a couple of oversized chickens who’d somehow gotten out of their yard. She knew he likely just wanted to herd them to safety, but to an unfamiliar onlooker, it might appear he was trying to attack the poor creatures.

She could already see a few horrified glances from people passing by. Though she honestly didn’t give a fig what anyone might think of the situation, she also understood that a dramatic scene—no matter how misunderstood—was not the best way to make their first public appearance in London.

As she neared, she could hear Caillie talking to the collie with proper authority, which was probably the only thing keeping him at her side though he continued to stare intently at the swans. It no longer looked as though the dog intended to break away from the girl’s hold and Ainsworth slowed her pace a bit in relief. The situation wasn’t quite so bad as she’d initially feared.

Glancing at the earl as he came up beside her, she noted his intent expression. “No need for undue concern, my lord. Caillie has Bramble firmly in hand.”

“It’s not the collie that worries me,” he replied stiffly as he quickened his own pace toward the pond. “It’s the swans.”

Confused, Ainsworth looked past him to see that the swans had taken intense notice of Bramble’s presence and appeared rather incensed by it. They were both spreading their wings and arching their long necks in an intimidating display as they headed straight for where Bramble and Caillie stood on the shore.

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