Her Errant Earl Read Online Free Page A

wasn’t at all plain. She wasn’t a typical English
beauty, true. But she was lovely nonetheless, and suddenly, he wanted to bed
her more than he’d ever wanted to take another woman in his life. Perhaps it
was because she was denying him. Perhaps it was because she was different. She
was his, and yet he didn’t deserve her. He didn’t know why he wanted her with
such unexpected desperation, and with the insistent hardness of his cock, he
was sure he didn’t care.
    “You can let me, my dear. I am your husband,” he cajoled,
giving her another sound kiss.
    She kissed him in return, her arms going round his neck for
the first time. He thought he was gaining ground until she stopped, tearing her
mouth away. Her eyes were wide and expressive. “I cannot. You don’t understand,
Pembroke. It’s too hard.” She pushed at him again and he moved, although the
force she exerted wasn’t enough to move a baby rabbit.
    Victoria hopped down from the table, her breathing visibly
heavy. Her expression was nearly indecipherable, but perhaps a combination of
agony and longing. He hoped for the longing, at least. The rest of his life
depended upon it.
    “I will prove myself to you,” he vowed, even if he hadn’t
the slightest notion of how he could accomplish such a feat. After all, he had
no choice. He never had.

Chapter Two
     
    Victoria feared she could no longer remain at Carrington
House as long as her husband insisted upon taking up residence there. Well over
a week had passed since his abrupt arrival, and he had acted the part of doting
husband each day. It was becoming increasingly impossible for her to remain
aloof. She didn’t want to give him the opportunity to cause her any further
hurt and humiliation. She couldn’t trust him, no matter how gallant or handsome
he could be. To that end, she had decided that if he didn’t wish to return to
London, she would in his stead. The only trouble with her resolution was that
she had yet to inform Pembroke.
    It seemed unseasonably warm as she wandered about in the
gardens, even for summer, sun beating upon the pathway she walked. The heady
scent of roses in bloom wafted to her. Carrington House’s elaborate gardens
were one of the few things that had given her life as the Countess of Pembroke
a sense of purpose. When she’d arrived, they had been dreadfully in need of
care, despite the admirable work of the estate’s capable Head Gardener. His
focus had been more put upon the fresh vegetables and fruits grown to be sent
up to the London townhouse. She took great satisfaction in admiring the beauty
produced by her efforts.
    The crunching of gravel startled her, interrupting her
musings. She turned to see her husband round the bend, stalking in her
direction. He wore trousers and a plain coat with no neckcloth, almost as
though he hadn’t finished dressing. His expression was thunderous.
    Oh dear. Perhaps he’d somehow caught wind of her plans.
    He didn’t stop until he towered over her. His eyes snapped,
his mouth flat with obvious displeasure. “Madam.”
    “Good morning, Pembroke,” she greeted, wary. She’d been
attempting to escape without his notice.
    He sketched an abbreviated bow that seemed at odds with the
tenseness hovering in the air between them. “Would you care to explain why I’ve
been informed that you are traveling to London?”
    Her hopes sagged. “I haven’t the slightest notion why you
were informed as I specifically directed the servants not to.”
    “Indeed?” He raised a brow, looking arrogant and sinfully
handsome at the same time. “Why would you keep it from me?”
    Victoria aimed her gaze at a safer point over his shoulder.
He was too gorgeous to look at, and doing so would only melt her determination
all the more. “I should think that’s obvious.”
    He took her hands in his and she wished she’d worn gloves.
The contact sent her mind spinning.
    “Are you running from me?”
    “Of course not,” she lied.
    “Look at me.”