Page 13 of The Scoundrel and the Lady

Harriet glanced up at him and smiled broadly. “Of course.”

Chapter Three

Iris blew away a curl that had fallen onto her forehead. She’d already had quite the morning. After yet another argument with Jasper about his behavior and those wretched articles, she’d balanced their ledgers and noted that, despite Jasper’s new penchant for gambling, their funds were still quite flush. She supposed she should be relieved about such news.

After Lord Ashby had come and asked her to dance the night before, Harriet was certain he was intent upon courting Iris. A ridiculous notion. Not to mention she wasn’t interested in him or any other suitors. Still, Harriet had thought that him approaching Iris would give her the perfect opportunity to start working on his sin of pride. But they hadn’t gotten their dance.

The arrogant man had done something so kind that it had completely flustered her. Dancing with Harriet after Belinda had been so rude and hurtful had been amazing. It didn’t change how she felt about him and his idiotic newspaper, but she had to admit he must not be a horrible person.

There came a scratch at the door, and Iris glanced up. “Enter,” she said.

The butler pulled open the wooden door. “A Lord Ashby to see you, my lady.”

Iris’s heart fell into her stomach. “Here? To see me?” Good heavens, was Harriet right?

“Indeed, that is what he said.” The butler walked forward and handed her the earl’s calling card.

She looked down at the ornate print. Merritt Steele, the Earl of Ashby.

“Should I send him away, my lady? Tell him you are not available?”

She came to her feet. “No!” She mustn’t sound so eager, but she’d never had a gentleman caller. This would give her the perfect opportunity to begin her work on his pride, though, precisely how she would do that remained to be seen. “Please send him in. Then prepare a tea tray and have that sent in.”

“Of course, my lady.” The butler nodded and left the room.

She put her hand up to her hair; her curls were unruly to say the least. She must look a fright, but since this was not a social call, it mattered not. Even if it were a social call, she most certainly would not be interested in the Earl of Ashby in such a way. He was far too arrogant for her tastes. Not to mention too handsome. Though he did have a penchant for being gallant. Oh, for heaven’s sake!

Acknowledging that did not prevent her breath from catching when he entered the room. Goodness, but he was dashing. Tall and broad, with dark wavy hair and startling blue eyes that peered shrewdly at her beneath arched brows.

“Lady Iris,” he said. “Thank you for seeing me.”

She curtseyed. “Lord Ashby.” Just then a maid brought in the tea tray and set it on the occasional table in the sitting area. “Tea?”

He nodded and followed her to the chairs. He selected a high-backed, buttoned leather chair while she sat in the yellow floral wingback that had been her mother’s favorite.

Iris handed him a cup of tea and left it to him to sweeten it or add cream. Her hands were shaking far too much to stir anything, lest she’d give away her addled nerves. What was wrong with her? She was the very picture of calm in most scenarios. Were he a thief, she would be able to handle him perfectly.

“I suppose you’re wondering what brings me to call upon you,” he said.

Breathe. Don’t appear too eager. “Dare I hope you’ve seen the error of your ways and have decided to cease printing those articles?”

He chuckled. The deep timbre vibrated up her spine.

“I’m afraid not.”

She absently stirred her tea. “How did you find me?”

“Your friend Lady Harriet provided me your address.”

Iris didn’t know whether she should thank Harriet or throttle her.

“I have something I wish to discuss with you. A proposition.”

She ignored the thundering of her heart. “Go on.”

“I intend to prove you wrong about the ‘Gentlemen’ articles. But first I must inquire as to your particular complaints with the pieces in question,” he said.

She released a measured breath and considered her words. “None of the behavior described in those articles, all of which I’ve now read, would be considered gentlemanly,” she said. “At least, not by any of the gentlemen I know.”

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