Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,30

an outright war to break out at my dinner table?” His mother fluttered around the table with several harried-looking maids in her wake. She glanced over her shoulder. “We can discuss this later, Jules, darling. And if you could, please, be a dear and arrive in the drawing room early this evening. I’ve a thousand things to do and only a few hours to do them. It doesn’t show well when the host is missing.”

Jules exhaled but nodded. He hated to disappoint her. Perhaps it would be best if she came to know Miss Jackson a little better first.

He waited outside the dining room doors and after the room became silent, he slipped back inside to make a few corrections to the seating arrangement himself. Because, after all, how could his mother come to appreciate her future daughter-in-law if she didn’t really know her?

He made a few other switches as well, placing Lady Masters between Greys and Spencer. Chuckling to himself, he silently closed the door behind him.

He had at least three hours of correspondence to address before dinner was served. How in God’s name would Blackheart manage his ducal responsibilities while also acting as a butler? As a major in the army, Blackheart’s brother, Lord Lucas, certainly couldn’t take over.

It was possible Blackheart would surrender before the charade even began. The thought added a skip to Jules’ step as he sauntered to his study. It would be rather entertaining to see how the lords and ladies responded to the sight of three gentlemen making a mad dash through the park wearing nothing but regret.

Entertaining, indeed.

Chapter 9

DIFFERENT IDEAS

“Hold onto the post while I tighten this.” Charley inhaled and then gasped when Daisy cinched the laces of her stays.

Charley had always been slim enough not to actually require the stays all women wore. “Why are you doing them up so tight?”

“To enhance your melons.” Daisy grinned.

Charley glanced down and frowned. She’d never thought her melons required enhancing before but had to concede the affect was rather… ripening.

“I won’t make it through the first course.” By now she had realized these dinners were rather gluttonous affairs but tonight, Daisy’s knot would ensure Charley paced herself.

“If your father intends to allow you to someday take over his business, why would he place such a bet with the earl?” Daisy dropped the gown over her head as she asked the question that had bothered Charley ever since Lord Westerley had told her about it.

Of course, Daisy knew everything.

“Perhaps it’s some sort of a test for me.” She touched her stomach and inhaled. Charley didn’t understand her father’s motivations and felt reluctant to dwell on that fact. “Which I will pass. Because I’m not going to marry him.”

And as she’d not come across him even once today, Charley thought resisting him might not be so difficult after all.

“Both you and your father baffle me.” Daisy pushed the last pin into Charley’s coiffure.

Charley turned her head from side to side. “Done up like this, the red doesn’t seem nearly as gaudy.” Her hair looked pretty for a change.

“I’m not trying to hide it, mind you. It’s the most gorgeous color I’ve ever seen.”

“You have to say that, I suppose, as my maid.”

Daisy met her gaze in the mirror. “Have I lied to you yet?”

Considering all this young woman had confided over the course of their short acquaintance, Charley could only shake her head.

“At least you could pretend for me that you’re going to become a countess. That would be quite the promotion for me.”

“You’re hopeless.” But Charley was laughing. By far, Daisy’s greatest talent of all was her ability to turn the most mundane of tasks into a good time. Perhaps Daisy would want to return to America with her…

“Hopeful, Miss Jackson. Always Hopeful.” She walked Charley across the room and practically pushed her out the door. “Now go be charming.”

Feeling prettier than usual and wearing delicate slippers her grandmother had sent along, Charley padded quietly through the corridors so as not to be late for the evening’s affairs.

She needn’t have hurried. Because when she stepped into the drawing room, it was empty except for Lord Westerley, her father, and the two Messrs. Spencer. A glance at the clock assured her that this was the time listed on the schedule in her chamber.

“Miss Jackson.” Lord Westerley approached the doorway. “You are a vision this evening.”

She knew he was playing his part, and yet, unwilling to dismiss the compliment completely, Charley smoothed her hands along the front