Mischief and Mistletoe - Stacy Reid Page 0,8
Miss Middleton, the sprig of mistletoe she had placed about the door dropped onto his father’s head!
The earl reached for it, appearing bemused. Then he dipped his head and placed a passionate kiss on the viscountess’s mouth. Miss Middleton gasped and covered her eyes. Graham stared at her in mute amazement. Blast his father for once again falling under the wiles of ladies who waged campaigns to steal into a man’s life like they were generals on the battlefield. With single-minded concentration and absolute cunning.
“Robert!” the viscountess gasped breathlessly. “I…I…oh dear, this was so unexpected!”
“Oh, Mama, you can do it! You could be his countess if you would only dream a little,” she urged in a whisper.
His irritation sharpened into something nearer to anger. Graham’s heart grew colder, and he dipped his head and drawled right at her ear, “And I will do everything to ensure that my father does not marry that woman!”
A sharp gasp escaped Miss Middleton before she whirled around to face him. The prettiness of her features struck him, and he was speechless. Had he ever seen skin look that soft? She had pure creamy flesh with the lightest scattering of freckles across the bridge of a small nose. Tendrils of blonde curls rested becomingly on her forehead, and her gaze held such alarm he almost stepped back. An odd urge to lean in and kiss the top of her nose horrified him, and he scowled.
Why is it the first woman I find attractive in years is this little schemer?
Her golden-brown eyes glowed with secrets, mischief, and a good deal of ire. “You!”
He leaned in, so their lips were perilously close. Her breath hitched on a sharp inhale and her throat worked on a swallow.
“Yes…me!”
Chapter 4
Callie froze where she stood, her heart a pounding roar in her ears. It was Viscount Sherbrooke. How handsome he appeared in dark trousers and jacket, with a burgundy waistcoat. His hair was messy and in need of taming. How rakish it made him look! He was one of the ton’s most elusive marital catches, and the scandal sheets featured him often. With an effort of will, she maintained a serene expression. “I beg your pardon, Viscount Sherbrooke, I wasn’t aware there was someone else here,” Callie said with what she hoped was a great delicacy.
“Evidently,” he said with an icy bite. “I believe you had preferred to conduct your outrageous plots in secrecy.”
His stare was a tangible thing, reaching out to touch her. Yet it was not a tender look, something cold and judgmental filled his glare.
“Outrageous plots?” she asked softly. “What outrageous plot?”
His brow arched in sharp disbelief. “Ah, so even when caught you think to play the long game.”
The door to the conservatory closed. She glanced over her shoulder, and noted her mother and the earl had left. Facing the viscount, she took a steady breath and lifted her chin to meet his unflinching and oddly intimidating regard.
“I am not playing any game.”
She could see the dangerous glitter in his narrowed eyes, but she refused to give in to the urge to step back. Then his words came back to her. ‘And I will do everything to ensure that my father does not marry that woman!’
“Whatever do you mean by saying you’ll ensure your father does not marry my mother?” Callie demanded, thoroughly affronted.
“I believe I was clear, Miss Middleton. My father deserves more than a woman who would scheme with her daughter to entrap him,” the viscount said in a voice mingled with civility and condescension.
“Mama has done nothing of the sort! And I only fanned the flame which had already been lit. A blind man could have sensed the attachment between the pair.”
It galled Callie unspeakably that he might do something to rip apart her mother’s happiness.
“And do you really think I would believe your mother had nothing to do with the contriving act you’re putting on?” he drawled. “Spare me the act, I’ve gotten it enough times from fortune hunters looking to marry into our family’s wealth.”
She gasped, crushing the mistletoe between her fingers. “How dare you! My mother might endure strained circumstances, but she would never form an attachment with someone only because of money! There are genuine feelings, and I daresay Mama is falling in love.”
“Love!” A sharp laugh which ended as soon as it began followed that incredulous utterance. His mien became even more remote, his eyes pinning her in place that of a hawk. It was positively uncomfortable.
“If the viscountess admires