Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,16
your recipe?”
“My blend. Yes.” Those little furrows appeared in her brows again and again, Jules noticed the smattering of tiny freckles that trailed and then flared out across the bridge of her nose.
If he was any other man, he might consider them goddamned adorable.
“My father thinks it’s too sweet.”
He realized something about her in that moment. This young lady was far more complex than he’d initially imagined. Was it possible he’d actually enjoy courting her?
Chapter 5
HONOR IS EVERYTHING
Charley savored the diverse flavors on her tongue and then tucked the small bottle carefully into the pocket she’d sewn into her cloak. Lord Westerley didn’t seem as bad as she’d initially judged him to be. And even though she didn’t necessarily agree with whatever had him laughing quietly to himself half the time, she appreciated his sense of humor.
In addition to that, he liked her whiskey.
Even so, best not to forget that he was an Englishman. No, he was an English Lord.
She slid him a sideways glance. “I appreciate your honesty—regarding…” Her throat felt unusually thick. “The bet my father made with you.”
He nodded. “It wasn’t a bet I would normally take, but I…”
“Had an unbeatable hand?” She nearly groaned because her father wasn’t nearly as lucky as he’d have others believe.
Another nod. “I lost with a royal flush. In poker, it’s the highest possible hand—”
“Depending upon the suit,” Charley finished for him, suppressing the urge to wince. Not only had her father wagered in order to garner her a husband, but he’d cheated in order to win. If the earl was smart enough to realize he’d been swindled, he mightn’t be quite so affable. And although she would prefer to return to America earlier than planned, she certainly didn’t want to be expelled from Westerley Crossings thanks to her father’s duplicitous gambling practices.
“Be that as it may,” She returned to her initial train of thought, “I’ve no intention of marrying. Ever.” She’d much rather spend her time developing new brands for her father’s distilleries. “If you’d like me to, I’ll speak to my father for you.” How many other schemes did her father have up his sleeve? She appreciated he wanted to fulfill the promise he’d made to her mother but what about what Charley wanted?
“I beg of you not to.” His voice came out sounding clipped—much as she’d imagined him to sound initially. “The matter doesn’t concern you.”
A sound emerged from her, and she wasn’t sure if it was a snort or a scoff. “Pardon me? Not that I ever intend to tie the knot, but are you implying that the identity of this hypothetical groom would not concern me?” It seemed he was indeed one of those pompous English lords she’d heard about.
“That is not—"
“I beg of you to explain your reasoning, sir.”
He slashed a frown in her direction. She knew he didn’t appreciate the ‘sir’ form of address, but she wasn’t feeling all that congenial herself just then.
“It’s not the marriage that doesn’t concern you. It’s the agreement. It has everything to do with honor.”
“A wager?” She raised her brows. “Made late at night regarding another person? Most likely while both parties were half-drunk?”
He slowed their steps until they’d stopped walking altogether. “Tell me, Miss Jackson, how does a man garner respect in America?”
The answer was an easy one. “His ability to provide for his family—his work ethic. His ability to put his leisurely tendencies aside in order to do what needs done.”
“And that is commendable. It gives a man purpose.”
“Surely, my father would be willing to exchange your promise for some sort of payment,” she suggested.
He was shaking his head as she spoke. “A wager as it applies to a man such as myself—a man who is highborn and in need of nothing—is not about the winnings. It is about his value as a man.”
She wanted to scoff again, but his steady gaze prevented her from doing so. Not only did he unnerve her with his intensity, but he sent a shiver of unease through her.
“I’ve been given more than any man could ever want or need—before I was even born. What good am I, Miss Jackson, if I act without honor? A gentleman does not skirt his responsibilities, nor does he break a promise.”
Charley exhaled an uneven breath. “I will not marry you,” she announced not so much to reassure him but to reassure herself.
“I will commit myself until you change your mind.” He began walking again, and she had to skip a few steps to