Page 25 of How to Tempt an Earl

His lips thinned. “I have my own residence now.”

“After I leave, I need to know that your sisters will be looked after in my absence.”

“Of course, I will. But what about Ellie’s presentation at court?” Ian asked.

“That is not until next year. I will come back for her presentation, then return to the country.”

Ian recognized a trap when he saw one. Assuming the title was one thing. Living in this house was another entirely.

Chapter Eight

The carriage waited that night. After Ian’s kiss on their first encounter, Grace considered not going, but sending a note reneging on their bargain. In the end, she went—not because her father had once again stayed out late gambling, but because she had given her word and she prided herself on never breaking a promise. And she needed what Ian had offered.

Don’t think about his kiss.

The coachman nodded in greeting and lowered the step as she approached. Grace took a breath and stepped inside. Her muscles tightened in anticipation of encountering Ian sitting in the carriage.

The seat was empty.

He hadn’t bothered to escort her tonight. An unexpected stab of disappointment pierced her, but she pushed it aside. It was for the best. The less time she spent alone with Ian the better. She clutched the sheets of foolscap on her lap. She had come prepared tonight, having drafted a list of tasks that she wanted to accomplish.

She’d keep to the business arrangement between them. Never mention their shared kiss, no matter how many times she thought of it. He had no need to know how it had affected her, and she was determined not to allow him liberties again.

The coach came to a stop. The driver opened the door and helped her alight. She pulled her hood forward to cover her hair, then made her way to the servant’s entrance and climbed the steps. Before she reached the top step, the door opened to reveal Ian waiting for her. He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms folded across his broad chest. He was dressed in shirt and trousers. He desperately needed the services of a valet. His dark hair gleamed beneath the moonlight, and his full lips curled in a wicked smile.

Goodness. He was all lean muscle and coiled tension, and she had never seen such a masculine specimen.

“You’re late.”

She wrinkled her nose at his tone. “I had to wait for the household to sleep.”

He took her arm and guided her inside. “And your father?”

Her senses heightened at his touch and nearness. “Is out.”

“I assure you, he’s not at the Raven Club. His table remains closed.”

“Thank you.” She looked away and bit her lower lip.

“Don’t fret. I sent Soot to find him.”

She turned back to him. “Soot?”

“A street waif I took under my wing. One of my most trusted employees. He has a knack for finding people and following them. Your father is at the Dolly Club.”

She’d heard the name before when the baron had returned home intoxicated and had passed out on the parlor settee. He’d mumbled the name, and Grace has learned it was one of the worst gambling hells in Pall Mall.

“The owner of the Dolly knows me. I sent a note to the man to turn the baron away before he begins to lose.”

She blinked in surprise. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I know how it bothers you. And because I don’t want you indebted to another club owner. You need to focus on my lessons.”

Oh my. The way he said to focus on him made her heart race.

“Come.” He took her elbow and shut the door. She followed him upstairs to the library.

She seated herself in the same leather chair by the fireplace that she’d chosen on her first night here. Ian selected a chair across from her and stretched his long legs.