Haunted by the Earl's Touch - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,53

him. ‘Why, thank you, ma’am. Unfortunately, this is the only book I have to hand, so I fear I must decline.’

Mrs Hampton scrabbled in her reticule. ‘I have a book of sermons written by my brother.’ She held it out. ‘I haven’t had a moment to open it since it arrived. It would be a treat to hear it read.’

The earl stepped between them, ostensibly to save Mary the trouble of rising, and glanced at the title. ‘Reflections upon St Paul’s Epistle to the Philippians. It sound most edifying, ma’am.’ The wry note to his tone made Mary look at him again. She could have sworn she saw the chilly gaze warm with a spark of amusement. It made him seem more human, somehow, and she barely repressed an answering smile. It wouldn’t be polite. She took the book from his hand.

Jeffrey groaned. ‘Not more of his ramblings. Forgive me, ma’am but I’d rather blow my head off with a pistol.’

Gerald shot him a glance. ‘Target practice? In the old hall?’ He looked ecstatic.

Mrs Hampton frowned. ‘I don’t know what your grandfather was thinking, letting you shoot guns indoors.’

‘Every gentleman should know how to fire a weapon accurately,’ Gerald said. ‘And that requires practice. I should be shooting at Manton’s, but since we never go to London...’

His mother pressed her lips together, but Jeffrey nodded his agreement. ‘He’s right. I’ll join you, Cuz. You coming, Beresford?’

‘I prefer the pleasure of hearing Miss Wilding read,’ he said, his voice a shade more raspy than usual.

That rough sound sent a thrill down Mary’s spine. An unwelcome chill. Only it wasn’t chill, there was a feverish quality to it that once more sent colour rushing to her face. She didn’t have to see it to know her face had turned red, she could feel the prickle of it all the way to her hairline.

‘Let them go,’ Mrs Hampton said, flapping her embroidery hoop in dismissal. ‘They will only laugh and carry on. Foolish boys. But be careful, my son. Pistols are dangerous.’

‘I know what I am doing, Mother,’ Gerald huffed. He bowed. ‘I will see you in the morning. No doubt you will be abed from boredom ere long.’

Jeffrey made a more elegant departure, kissing each lady’s hand in turn as he bid them goodnight, then he followed his cousin from the room.

The earl watched him go with narrowed eyes. Mary could not quite tell if he disliked his cousin or merely did not understand him. The two men were very different. It certainly did not appear as if they shared any blood, which might be the reason for their apparent mutual dislike. Perhaps Jeffrey really had hoped that somehow his claim to the title would be recognised.

Mary waited for the earl to sit down, but he did not. Instead he disposed himself with one arm resting along the mantel and his gaze fixed on the fire.

‘Begin, child,’ Mrs Hampton said. She leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes.

Mary focused on the words and began reading. Hard as she tried to imbue the words with sense and meaning, the perorations and lengthy admonitions remained dreary and uninspiring. By the time she was done Mary could only pity the members of the archdeacon’s congregation.

After only one paragraph a snore emanated from Mrs Hampton’s end of the sofa. ‘What?’ she said, looking around her. Then her eyes cleared. ‘Very nice. Wonderful, don’t you think, my lord?’

He inclined his head. ‘Entirely enlightening, ma’am.’

‘Well, yes,’ she muttered. ‘Of course it would sound so much better in church. He has a wonderful baritone, my brother the archdeacon.’

So much for Mary doing her best.

‘Would you like me to read more?’ she asked with her heart sinking to her feet at the very thought.

‘I think we have more than enough to reflect upon,’ his lordship drawled. ‘Is that your opinion also, Miss Wilding?’

Now that was really unfair, putting her in such a position, but there was a challenge in his eyes that she could not quite resist. ‘I would dare to say one must take sufficient time to absorb such profoundness or it will lose its impact.’

The earl shot her a glance that just might have been tinged with admiration. She felt herself warm in the heat of that gaze.

He took a quick breath and once more his expression was guarded, his eyes cool. Once more he had distanced himself. So confusing and frustrating. Really? Why would she care?

Mrs Hampton beamed at her. ‘Quite. Indeed. I shall be