The Reluctant Viscount. Lara TempleЧитать онлайн книгу.
in and out of love at least a dozen times before he is fool enough to think of marrying someone.’
She felt something close to a snarl of frustration bubble up in her and clamped down on it. She should not have expected anything from him. She stood up.
‘Fine. I will do it myself.’
‘That sounds ominous. Do what?’ he enquired with mild interest as he stood up as well.
‘What do you care?’
‘I may not care, but I am curious. Percy is, as named, very persevering. It will take a great deal to detach him from his quarry if he feels he’s closing in on the scent. And if your father is guardian, I sincerely doubt he will present Percy with much opposition. So you have quite an uphill task ahead. Can I watch you try to rout him?’
She knew he was being purposely aggravating and that by standing there glaring at him she was just feeding his amusement, but she was too upset to care. She had not expected him to be willing, but to realise she could elicit from him nothing but rather sardonic amusement on a matter that was so important to her made her want to do some damage.
‘I don’t remember you being so petty before Rowena got her hooks into you. She really took the man out of you, didn’t she?’ she shot at him contemptuously.
The lazy cynicism disappeared in a flash of fury that was no less alarming for being quickly reined in and for one moment Alyssa felt a spark of fear. Then his lids lowered and he shook his head.
‘And I don’t remember you being vicious. Time leaves its mark on us all. Heraclites had the right of that, didn’t he?’ He nodded at the morose statue on the desk, his mocking smile reasserting itself. Alyssa’s own anger disappeared. She felt weary and depressed. She shook her head as well.
‘I’m sorry, that was vicious. And foolish. And it was foolish to come. I should never have bothered you with this. Goodbye, Lord Delacort.’
She didn’t wait for him to ring for someone to show her out, just walked out of the room almost absently, closing the door behind her.
Adam remained standing for a few minutes after she left, staring at the door, his mouth flat and stern. He stared down absently at the estate accounts and papers that littered the desk, but turned when the door opened. The man who entered was tall and dark-haired like him, but his eyes were a rich warm brown and right now alert with interest and a hint of amused mischief.
‘I thought we were going for a ride? Or are you too busy being besieged by young ladies? I just saw a very pretty specimen wander off through the garden. The English countryside must have changed quite a bit since my boyhood if young women feel free to call on bachelors unattended, especially bachelors of your dubious reputation. Or is she perhaps an old friend, here to renew your acquaintance?’
Adam shook his head ruefully at the innuendo.
‘Miss Drake doesn’t quite fall under any conventional category, Nick. But she most certainly did not come here on any romantic mission. At least not on her own account. She wanted to enlist my help in spiking Percy’s guns. It seems he has got his mercenary sights on an heiress.’
Nicholas Beauvoir cast a critical eye at the worn and faded chairs, then sighed and sat down, propping his immaculately shining boots on a low table.
‘Good for Percy. Why, does that pretty little thing want him for herself? She hasn’t a chance unless she’s wealthy.’
‘Hardly. She likes Percy less than I do. Apparently her little brother is sweet on the heiress, so Miss Drake is guarding the sheep while her brother is off at Cambridge. And she wants me to help chase off this particular wolf.’
Nicholas opened his brown eyes wide.
‘A very primped and pomaded wolf. But why on earth would she expect you of all people to do that?’
‘No idea. She seems to think it is my duty now that I am the head of this misbegotten family.’
‘I don’t know why anyone would expect that,’ Nicholas said reasonably. ‘They never wanted anything to do with you until Ivor died without male issue. Who would have thought that old Lord Delacort would drop dead and lose two sons to mishaps in a mere five years? If you hadn’t been halfway around the world at the time, I am sure they would have found a way of laying the blame at your door.’
‘I wish one of them at least might have waited until they had sired a son before they died. It’s bad enough being saddled with getting this ruin into some semblance of order, I certainly don’t need furious little bluestockings stomping in demanding I do something about Percy’s fortune hunting.’
Nicholas’s brows rose. ‘Is that what she is? She didn’t look the part. How on earth do you even know her? She must have been little more than a child when you were booted out of the county.’
‘I don’t know, she must have been around sixteen or seventeen. And I know her because amongst other things she very kindly tried to warn me off Rowena. To be fair she was spot on—she told me she was sorry that I was about to be hurt, but Rowena was leading me on and had no real intention of marrying me because I was quite poor and that it was probably all for the best, since she would make me miserable if I were unlucky enough to marry her.’
‘Good God! I would wager you didn’t appreciate the lecture at the time.’
‘I remember hoping she’d fall out of the tree.’
‘What tree?’ Nicholas asked, bemused.
‘The lecture was delivered from a branch of the Hungry Tree, so named for its tendency to capture and demolish her siblings’ balls and kites. Their cottage is on Rowena’s family land and Miss Drake and her siblings were always underfoot somewhere.’
‘Why the devil was she was up in the tree?’
‘Rescuing a ball, I think. I offered to help and got that lecture for my pains. And she said I was too fat.’
Nicholas leaned back, clearly enjoying himself.
‘Too fat? You?’
‘Well, too big to help on any but the lowest branches. I was still in my chivalrous phase, but it was wasted on her. I forgot to mention she used to go around in breeches, of all things. It was the strangest household. Her father was always upstairs in his study, writing abysmal poetry, and I think I saw him less than half a dozen times the whole time we lived in Mowbray. Her siblings were always either up to some mischief or following Alyssa about like a tribe of Indians. They were a law unto themselves.’
Nicholas frowned.
‘She didn’t look wild.’
‘Not wild, precisely. Despite the breeches and the tree-climbing she was trying very hard to turn her ramshackle tribe into a proper little brigade. She used to tutor them en masse out in the garden so they wouldn’t bother their father. She roped me into teaching them some Greek plays. It was very odd. The youngest one was seven, but they all sat there on the grass and drank in Antigone and Oedipus.’
‘Oh, no, Adam, not Oedipus!’
‘That’s what I thought, but she insisted. She said it was important they know the classics. I toned it down as much as I could. They were a good audience—the only ones who showed any interest in what I was studying. My parents certainly never did. The only reason they consented to my going up to Oxford instead of starting work with old Delacort’s estate agent right away was because I received a fellowship. That way I would be up there at Trinity earning old Delacort’s goodwill by making sure Ivor did enough not to get himself sent down. Anything to insinuate us further into the Delacort social fold. My mother always made it clear that the chief redeeming feature of becoming plain Mrs Alistair was the Delacort connection. She was the reason we came to live in Mowbray on old Delacort’s charity in the first place.