Sex and the Single Earl Read Online Free Page B

agreeable marriage. If it was the last thing he ever did, he’d mold her into a suitable and contented wife. For her own sake, as well as his.

Chapter Two
    Lady Eleanor St. James looked up from her perusal of the Bath Chronicle and glowered at Sophie from across the drawing room.
    “Don’t be silly, my girl. No thief-taker in the world would be interested in such an insignificant trinket. Besides, this is Bath, not Bow Street. You really must try to rid yourself of these ridiculously romantic notions.”
    It took only an instant for her godmother to demolish Sophie’s plans to recover her bracelet. Lady Eleanor had a knack for doing that, and was famous for a ruthless logic that had reduced many an unwary victim to quivering silence. Sophie had hoped to keep the knowledge of the theft from the old woman, but her dramatic entrance into the house yesterday had occurred just as Lady Eleanor stepped from the drawing room in search of her sister Jane. The ensuing interrogation had not been pleasant, but at least she had convinced her godmother that it was only her coral bracelet that had been stolen, not the Stanton family heirloom.
    Sophie sighed, retrieving a dainty scrap of partially embroidered linen from the bottom of her sewing basket. She found herself sighing quite a lot these days, a melancholic habit she had always found annoying in other people. Her mother would say it was nerves, but that was absurd. Sophie never had the vapors or suffered from fits of the blue devils, except for that awful time after her father’s death.
    “Are you listening to me, Sophia? I insist you give up any idea of recovering your bracelet. I know Robert gave it to you, but it is not, after all, an heirloom, or even very valuable. What’s that you said?”
    “I didn’t say anything, my lady,” Sophie replied, cursing the gasp that had escaped her lips.
    Lady Eleanor looked suspicious, but carried on. “You must not make such a fuss over something so insignificant. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. That has always been my motto in life, and it serves me well. You would do best to adopt it. In any event, how would one even go about recovering such a thing?”
    That was exactly the question Sophie had been pondering for the last twenty-four hours. But a quick inspection of Lady Eleanor’s jutting chin convinced her she best keep those thoughts to herself.
    “I’m sure I don’t know, ma’am. Can I cut you another slice of plum cake? It really is delicious.” As she reached for the older woman’s plate, Sophie tried desperately to think of a topic that would divert attention away from her cursed bracelet. “By the way, my lady, is there any particular book you would like me to pick up for you at Barratt’s today? I understand there are some new volumes by the author of Waverly .”
    Lady Eleanor’s sparse brows twitched together, her narrow but shrewd eyes staring back at her. But Sophie was spared any more lecturing by a light tap sounding on the drawing room door.
    “Enter,” Lady Eleanor bellowed.
    Sophie rose and fluffed out her soft muslin skirt, preparing to greet the day’s first visitors to St. James’s Square. She loathed the idea of having to be social, but at least it would divert her godmother’s attention from yesterday’s fiasco.
    “The Earl of Trask,” intoned Yates.
    Simon strode into the room, casting a glowering look her way before turning his attention to his aunt. He bowed gracefully, the fabric of his bottle green riding jacket clinging to his massive shoulders. Sophie ducked her head to hide the flush of heat climbing up her cheeks, silently lamenting—not for the first time—her ready response to his intense masculinity.
    “Good morning, my dear aunt. It is a great pleasure to see you again.”
    “Well, if it’s such a great pleasure, nevvy, I wonder why you don’t avail yourself of it more often. It’s a miracle I even remember what you look like.”
    Sophie grinned, relishing the