Page 3 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

‘Unmanly?’ he said in a choked voice. ‘Perhaps you are only interested in other activities. Such as letter writing or needlepoint.’

‘Heavens no.’ Both sounded torturous to Nora.

‘So, no fishing or hunting. Or ladies’ activities.’

Sir Simon and Lady Melrose had halted by the open French doors. Would they slip outside for a rendezvous? Nora’s urgency to speak with the rake tripled. ‘I wouldn’t say no to everything, my lord,’ she said as her eyes followed Sir Simon. ‘Just fish properly and have all your men and dogs hunt something other than a poor lone fox.’

He whistled through his teeth. ‘You are quite opinionated.’

She turned her attention to the Earl. She couldn’t help but compare the two men. Ralston was ruggedly attractive; the complete opposite of Sir Simon’s fair looks and slim build. No doubt ladies would find the Earl a catch, but she wasn’t looking for a husband. Rather, she needed to escape his presence as expeditiously as possible. She pursed her lips as she gazed up at him. ‘You are rarely challenged, are you, Lord Ralston?’

‘Not often. And never by a lady.’

‘That must be exhausting. And boring.’

He arched a dark eyebrow. ‘Oh? And why is that?’

‘To always be told you’re right, even when you know you are not.’

He stiffened as if she’d struck him. Nora took advantage of his shock. ‘Pardon me, Lord Ralston. I must be on my way.’

Turning her back, she walked away to find a blackguard.

Devon Hawkley, the Earl of Ralston, stood stunned as he watched Miss Nora Magarian disappear into the crowd. His reaction to her sharp words was surprising since not much took him off guard. He also prided himself on his self-control.

He’d met the lady only briefly on the first day of the house party. She was beautiful with auburn hair, green eyes that were tilt-tipped at the corners and a lush mouth. She’d had three seasons and remained unmarried, and he wondered as to the reason. His first clue was during last night’s dinner when she’d criticized the creamed onions, which he happened to enjoy. His second encounter was much more telling.

His attempt at polite conversation had miserably failed. What lady argued about fishing, for goodness’ sake? And defending a fox?

Instinct had told him she was searching for another, and he was a nuisance in her way, which had irked him. And if he were being truthful to himself, he found it insulting. He was an earl, after all, a very wealthy one, and he often had to flee from overeager debutantes and their title-seeking mamas.

He shouldn’t give Nora’s rude behavior another thought. She was the type of woman he avoided. He had political aspirations in the House of Lords and pursuing an obstinate woman like her wouldn’t further his efforts.

What he needed was a lady of impeccable breeding, one who could trace her lineage back to Queen Elizabeth, and whose connections could help him attain his political goals. He was working on a bill to require that children be at least ten years old to be employed at mills. He had another bill in mind that would require at least two years of education for every child. But he understood that he must work on one at a time, and each proposed bill would be an uphill battle. His main rival at the House, Lord Weber, was his fiercest opponent, and Ralston knew he would need allies, both political and social. He was also aware he needed an heir for the continuation of the earldom. He wasn’t a cold man, and his future wife would have his title, his wealth and his influence in Society. He’d respect and admire her. As for love…his past was not to be forgotten.

He had once been engaged to a woman he loved. But that had ended in devastation and heartbreak. Now, years later, he wanted a traditional aristocratic English union—a businesslike marriage of convenience without emotional engagement, one which would benefit both parties. Once he found a lady who met these requirements, he could better focus on his politics. ‘You look like you could use a drink.’ Ralston’s long-time friend, Hugh Shelton, the Marquess of Adler, handed him a tumbler of whisky. ‘Scotch whisky. The best from our host’s cellars.’

Ralston sipped the fine drink. ‘I’m surprised you’re here this early. You usually wait until midnight to attend a ball.’

Adler disliked Society events, especially balls, and had sworn to put off marriage as long as possible. He preferred his club, his whisky and his mistress too much. He possessed a sharp wit as well as a mocking expression. With his light brown hair and green eyes, he was a natural born charmer. He’d been friends with Ralston since their days at Eton as boys. They met at a coffee house in the Strand every week to read the papers and talk politics. Although Adler had no political aspirations, he did his duty by showing up to vote in the House and kept his eyes and ears open to help Ralston.

Adler raised his own glass. ‘My mother has been nagging more than usual.’

‘By more than usual you mean she is guilting you? Or is she threatening you in some other fashion?’

Adler shuffled uncomfortably. ‘I’m not the only one who must ensure the progression of the title for future generations.’

‘Ah, our duty for the heir and spare.’

Adler’s lips twisted into a smug grin as he eyed him. ‘I saw you speaking with that lovely auburn-haired lady. Miss Nora Magarian, is it?’

Ralston’s fingers tightened on his glass. ‘She barrelled into me. I couldn’t avoid her.’

‘Truly?’ Adler arched an eyebrow. ‘I wouldn’t mind if she “bumped” into me.’

‘Don’t be fooled by her beauty. The lady has a tongue that could clip tin. She claims the lake is overfished and we, as a group, should not hunt a solitary fox.’ She’d also declared that it must be exhausting to be appeased by others. He withheld that comment from his friend. Adler would most likely hoot with laughter.

‘Is that so? A lady who speaks her mind rather than one who bats her lashes and pretends to giggle at bad jokes is rare. I’m intrigued. Perhaps I’ll seek her out myself and ask her to dance.’