Page 7 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

Yes, he thought loudly to himself. What the hell had she been thinking?

No matter how beautiful a woman Nora was, standing stark naked beside her was not a smart choice.

Although, it hadn’t actually been his choice, had it?

She’d slipped into his bed.

God, the feel of her. That lush mouth pressed against his. Her abundant curves had sinuously rubbed against him, and he’d felt her breasts through her thin nightgown pressed against his chest. Her fresh lemongrass soap filled his senses, drugging him. Her silken thighs were without stockings and his blood ran hot thinking of her.

He’d had a hard time forgetting their encounter the prior night at the ball. She’d been impertinent, difficult and intriguing. He hadn’t realized how bored he’d been until she’d challenged him. He was used to beautiful women. In his world, there were many debutantes who’d sought his attention. Only she hadn’t sought his. Until tonight. The more he thought of what had just occurred, the more confused he was. Why had she slipped into his bed? And what red-blooded male could resist her?

He grasped the sheet tighter around his waist.

‘Nora,’ Mrs Margarian’s tone sharpened as she addressed her daughter, ‘I will deal with you later.’

Despite everything, a protective possessiveness for the daughter stirred in his chest, and he wanted to push her behind him to shield her from her mother’s wrath. He must be mad. Then he caught a gleam in the mother’s eyes, and once more, his suspicions were raised. She turned a penetrating gaze to him. ‘You have dishonored my daughter, my lord.’

He hadn’t done anything. Nora had climbed into his bed. But the world didn’t work that way, did it?

‘Madam, this is most awkward—’ he began.

‘Awkward! I demand you act honorably.’

Ah, therein lies the rub.

He was struck by the enormity of the situation. He could not afford a scandal, not even a hint of one. It would be the proverbial kiss of death for a rising politician. He had goals, objectives, and his bill to limit child labor was to have its first reading soon after his return to Town. He could just imagine Lord Weber’s smug look upon clutching the Tatler, the ridiculously popular scandal sheet, and taunting him with it at White’s or, even worse, in the House of Lords, surrounded by his peers.

He reached up as if to loosen a cravat around his throat that wasn’t there. He swallowed. He gave Nora his most imposing scowl, one that would send his stewards scrambling and warn men in the street from stepping into his path. To his surprise, Nora faced him squarely, green eyes gleaming even in the darkness, chin up, lips swollen from his kisses. Her disheveled auburn hair caressed her shoulders and fell in waves down her back as if they’d spent a night in his bed. Still dressed in her cotton nightgown, he could make out a shapely leg. He wanted to yell at her, to demand an explanation, to kiss her hard.

What the hell was wrong with him? This wasn’t in keeping with his well-designed future. She wasn’t part of it. He, more than others, knew life could be devastatingly unexpected. There was only one way to prevent the scandal of the Season.

His mouth set in a grim line as he faced the mother again. ‘I’m prepared to offer for your daughter. With your permission, we can wed as soon as we return to Town and the banns are read.’

Chapter Three

‘I will not do it. No one can make me marry the Earl.’ Nora collapsed on the edge of her bed the following morning. Thankfully, both of her sisters were present. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be the Earl of Ralston’s room. That oaf Simon told me the wrong room. He said the third room on the left but he was counting from when he departed his room, not from mine!’

Candace rubbed Nora’s back in an attempt to soothe her. ‘It doesn’t matter now, Nora. You must deal with Mother. Not to mention the rest of the house party. News, let alone scandal, travels like wildfire and if you don’t accept the Earl’s proposal, the scandal sheets will be ablaze before you return to London.’

‘Candace is right,’ Sara said from where she sat on the window seat across the room. ‘And Mother will be intolerable if you refuse to cooperate and marry the Earl.’

Nora rubbed her temples with her fingertips. Both her sisters had good points.

Candace was a year younger than Nora and the two were close. The combination of Candace’s mahogany hair and dusty complexion from her father’s Middle Eastern side with her blue eyes from her mother’s English side was striking. Sara, who was also lovely, was three years younger and had dark, curly tresses, but her eyes were chocolate brown. She loved fashion and often sketched dresses on a notebook she carried. As the youngest sister, Nora typically did not confide as much to Sara.

But Nora had confessed her plans to seduce Sir Simon to Candace, who’d promptly tried to talk her out of it, even knowing that when Nora made a decision, it was hard to dissuade her.

Nora flinched. Her plot to get out of her mother’s plans to bind her to Lord Umbridge had backfired. Instead of a baron she’d snagged an earl. Her mother must be over the moon.

‘I know Mother is secretly thrilled, but it’s not what I wanted for myself,’ Nora said. ‘The London Scientific Society meets in less than six months, and I want to present my findings of the Cornwall shells.’

‘It wasn’t what the Earl of Ralston had in mind either. Regardless, you will be a countess,’ Candace said.

‘A countess!’ Sara perked up. ‘Can you imagine, Nora?’

Nora let out a puff of air. She never wanted to marry. Especially not him. ‘The Earl of Ralston strikes me as a man who always gets what he wants and is set in his ways.’

‘In my opinion, you just described most men.’ A note of bitterness tinged Candace’s voice.