My One and Only Earl (Forever Yours #12) - Stacy Reid Page 0,52

small parlor.”

“Mr. Winters?”

“Yes.”

Was he perhaps another suitor? “Is my stepmother here?”

“No, Miss Poppy, Mrs. Ashford has gone out with Lady Hayes and Miss Rebecca.”

Poppy stood, smoothed down the lines of her day gown and made her way to the parlor. A gentleman did indeed wait for her, seated in an armchair with a cup of tea in his hands. Except she was not at all familiar with him. This Mr. Winters was quite handsome with his wavy black hair and athletic build. The man was immaculately dressed in dark trousers and jacket, with a burgundy waistcoat and at this first glance, it was clear he was an affluent man of some distinction.

“Miss Ashford,” he said, standing when she entered.

Poppy dipped into a slight curtsy. “Mr. Winters, you have me at a disadvantage. I do not know who you are, but you seem to know me…even where to call upon me.”

“How forthright you are,” he murmured caustically.

His tone surprised her, and she frowned. Thankfully, she had left the door slightly ajar. The butler and a few footmen were within shouting distance. Poppy was also not afraid to slap him over the head with one of the vases should it become necessary.

“Who are you, Sir, and why did you wish to meet with me?”

An icy smile touched his mouth, and dark green eyes rudely scanned her body. “I am curious to know why you are mentioned so much in the company of my daughter’s intended. It is odd, you see, for he has kept to himself these past few years, but now every scandal sheet feels it worthwhile to mention Lord Kingsley and Miss Ashford together in the same breath. Why?”

Shock blossomed through her in a chilly wave. It took her a moment to catch her breath, but when she finally did, it was to say, “Lord Kingsley is to be married to your daughter?”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a rolled paper tied with a ribbon. “Yes. I assume you know he is to marry in three years. We have a betrothal agreement, and I will sue him for breach of promise should he try to cry off.”

Poppy reeled, and a sickening sensation entered her stomach. She did not trust herself to make a civil reply. With an effort of will, she maintained a serene expression. “Have you finished your piece, Mr. Winters?” Poppy politely asked.

Sharp and cunning eyes assessed every nuance of her features. Undoubtedly the man searched for any evidence that there was a serious attachment between her and the earl.

“I suggest you understand my meaning of this meeting, Miss Ashford?”

“Of course I do. You rudely barged into my sister’s home without observing the correct proprieties in calling at one’s home after noon merely to ascertain if there is an attachment between Lord Kingsley and myself. You then decided to be as ruthless as possible and to use your wealth and words to cut such a thread had it existed. I assure you, Lord Kingsley is merely kind in helping a spinster get the proper notice to land her a decent offer. There is no sort of attachment between us. Your visit was boorish and unnecessary.”

Winters’s eyes had hardened at her speech, and as he stood, he tugged at his neckcloth as if made uncomfortable.

“I will pay you twenty thousand pounds to immediately cease all connections with the earl. Whether they be false or not.”

Poppy stepped back, her hand fluttering to her chest. “I beg your pardon?”

“Twenty thousand pounds will be my only offer. Do not play coy for more.”

“You heard me. It is not real,” she said, clenching her fist tightly against the pain piercing her belly.

“I know what I saw,” Mr. Winters hissed unexpectedly. “I watched as he walked with you along Rotten Row last week, and then when he danced with you at Lady Bloomfield’s ball. That blasted earl had the look of a man desperately in love. You might think it is not real, Miss Ashbrook, but I am a man. I know hunger when I see it.”

The breath whooshed from her, and Poppy’s cheeks heated. James stared at her with undisguised hunger, and this man knew it? “You do not know, James,” she said quietly.

That hawk-like gaze sharpened, and his lips curled. “James, is it?”

“Yes, James…Lord Kingsley, he is my friend.” Poppy lifted her chin. “He has honor. If he made you a promise to marry your daughter, he will honor that promise, even at the cost of his own happiness.” She glanced