Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,362

not let it go.

The items sounded like an attribute list for a duke searching for a wife. And it was written in his hand.

Even temperament indeed!

She’d give him an even temperament.

Obedient!

He couldn’t possibly think she’d fit that requirement. If he did, he was in for a rude shock.

A very rude shock.

Chapter Three

The following morning Blade felt more himself. He’d dressed appropriately late, near midnight, when his carriage finally arrived. Not in time for him to join the others for dinner, so he’d had no chance to talk with Harriet or her brother. However, this morning he’d convinced Philip Rondell, Viscount Trello, to accompany him on a morning ride.

All night he’d pondered on Harriet’s words at the hot pool. How had he read this so wrong? Trello had led him to believe that his sister, Harriet, would welcome the match. Trello too, thought Lady Harriet held a tendre for him. Most women would be ecstatic at his attentions.

Whoa! Was he really that arrogant? He smiled to himself. He’d never had a complaint before. He knew he could have the hand of any woman he offered for.

Almost all. Once again Lady Harriet differed from every other woman he’d met. And that only attracted him more.

She had the body of Venus, curves in all the right places and then some. Her breasts were high and firm and the nipples peaking above the water, all tight and wet, had made his mouth water.

“What are you smiling at on this cold, sunny winter's day?” Trello pulled his horse in beside Ghost.

“I was thinking about Harriet. What made you think she would be open to an offer?”

Trello shrugged and tried to keep his steed under control. “My sister is intelligent enough to understand a match with you is not only prudent but would make her happy. Our families are very close and family is important to her.”

“But have you or your father conversed with her on this subject?”

Trello looked bewildered. “Not exactly. Isn’t that why you are here? I understand father wishes to talk with you about the marriage contracts and formalities. Harriet is your domain. You’ve never had trouble getting women to do as you wish.”

“Your sister is not like most women.” Blade cursed under his breath. No wonder Harriet’s reception was a little confusing. He’d ignored her all season and now suddenly he wanted to marry her. He would have courted her if he’d been able. Jolly Prinny! He wished he could throttle the Regent. Worse still he had sworn an oath not to reveal the task the Regent had set him.

Harriet sensed what he was here for, but no one had talked to her about the situation. If those he loved were planning around him without his input, annoyed would be putting it mildly. Angry and hurt too.

“This may not be as simple as you are making out, Trello.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I think I know my sister and she holds a tendre for you. Why do you think she turned down so many proposals this season?”

“She did?” The idea of her marrying anyone else blackened his mood and made him realize how lucky he was to find her still unattached. Just then he heard a horse galloping, and he looked up to see Harriet galloping toward them.

Trello saw her too. “Now’s your opportunity to win a fair maiden’s heart.”

“That may be too much to ask. I’ll start with her agreement to marry me.” Harriet stirred his senses. He loved her intelligence, her spirit, and her beauty, but he’d never considered love when he thought of marriage—not since…. Men like him and Trello had to consider all their obligations to family, tenants, and God and country when choosing a wife. Love wasn’t an option to dictate the path of their lives.

“I shall see you back at the house. When you’re free, I’d value your thoughts on the Carthors venture.” With that, Trello galloped away.

Like the gentleman he was, Blade used the reins to hold Ghost in check, waiting for Harriet to catch up.

“Good morning, Harry.” She frowned at his use of the name he’d given her when she was a young girl. He’d called her Harry because she’d tried to do anything the boys did. If she wanted to be a boy, he’d call her by a boy’s name. She’d loved it at the time.

“Oh, please. I’m not a little girl chasing after her brothers anymore.”

He let his eyes linger on the tight-fitting riding jacket she wore. “Most definitely not a little girl.” He