A Taste of Seduction (An Unlikely Husband) Read Online Free Page B

interrupt.” The thin little man entered, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. He scurried across the room, halting a few feet from Alexander’s massive cherry desk.
    “What is it, James?”
    The butler tapped his foot five times. Very fast. Tap five times. Rest. Tap five times. Rest. After the third set, Alexander drew in a sharp breath and glared at the man’s bony face. James’s foot arrested in mid-air.
    “Well? Out with it, man.”
    “There’s a young woman, sir,” James began, his small, beak-like nose twitching as he spoke. “It’s quite curious actually. Quite curious indeed,” he said, nodding, his sparse brown hair separating with each movement.
    Alexander cleared his throat.
    “Yes, well, there’s a young woman in the gold salon who insists on seeing Lord Montrose.”
    “And you interrupted me to tell me that?” He turned back to his ledger. “Send her away.”
    “But sir, she insists it’s of dire importance and must speak with him at once.”
    “Impossible.”
    “But, sir—”
    “Do I not pay you an adequate wage to perform the task of butler of Drakemoor?”
    “Yes, sir. Indeed, sir. But—”
    Alexander slashed a hand in the air. “Then earn your keep. Get rid of her.”
    James’s foot tapped five times. “She...refuses to leave, sir.”
    “Refuses to leave?” The words fell off his tongue in a soft, melodic tone. Only those who knew him well, and they were few, would recognize the controlled anger in his voice.
    “Says she won’t leave until she’s spoken to Lord Montrose,” James finished, stammering on his last words.
    Who in the devil would be so bold as to present herself uninvited, and demand to see the earl?
    “What’s her name?” Alexander asked, torn between annoyance and grudging curiosity.
    “Miss Francie Jordan.”
    “Never heard of her.”
    “No, sir.”
    Who in the devil was Francie Jordan? Moreover, how was it she possessed the temerity to present herself to one of the wealthiest men in the countryside without invitation? Alexander rubbed his jaw. Interesting. He’d handle her himself.
    “Show her in, James.”
    “Yes, sir,” the butler replied, turning on his heel and scurrying out the door.
    ***
    How much longer was she going to have to wait?
    Francie scanned the spacious room for the fifth time, taking in the grandeur surrounding her. So this was how nobility lived, comforted with luxuriant brocades and Aubusson rugs. She pictured George burying his nails in the tan rug. It matched his coat, almost to the exact shade.
    Gold and burgundy damask draperies filtered the sun, washing the room in a warm, rose-colored glow. Not anything like the white and yellow curtains in her humble abode that welcomed the first rays of bright light through the last fading fingers of day. And the accessories. Her gaze settled once again on the three oriental vases sitting on the mantel. Brought over from a trip to the Far East, no doubt. Her home also boasted three vases on an old pine mantel, but they were simple pottery with a rose design. One even had a rather large chip in it that Francie turned toward the wall.
    How could Aunt Eleanor and Uncle Bernard consider Drakemoor as a home for her? Even if Lord Montrose accepted her, she didn’t belong here. Ladies in this society wore fine silks and diamonds, their delicate skin protected from the sun and wind. Francie doubted they’d ever buried their fingers in the rich soil of the earth. Or walked barefoot in a field of clover. And certainly they’d never rolled on the ground with a one -hundred-ninety-pound mastiff.
    No, she didn’t belong at Drakemoor and the sooner she concluded her business here, the sooner she could return to the rented carriage, rattling back to her simple life. Hopefully, minus the intrusion of one Lord Jared Crayton.
    Then her life would be perfect.
    A light rap at the door disturbed her thoughts. The butler, a little man with a twitching nose, entered the room.
    “Follow me, Miss