An Earl's Guide to Catch a Lady Read Free

consumed it was quite possible. After all, the bottles she clutched in each hand had been empty. Throughout their entire exchange, which consisted of hiccups and gaping, she’d never once perceived him to be a man, but continued to believe him a dream. A fact finally confirmed when she simply undressed and climbed into his bed. Her name had been the last whisper on her lips.
    Again if he’d been any kind of gentleman he would have left, instead he’d settled in beside her. An unusual act. He only spent the night in a woman’s bed to bed her. He left after that, having no need for what came afterward. He preferred it that way. Until the mysterious Evelyn.
    He hadn’t even considered what might happen when she woke up to find him very much flesh and bone. He just wanted to be there then when she did. She’d touched a chord deep inside his soul. How long since something had stirred within him, anything in the company of a woman? Six years if he recalled correctly. Perhaps it was her innocence that called to him, or perhaps because she had seen him as a dream, he can now pretend she had been one as well.
    He let his hand run over the empty space and longed for her presence. No one had ever looked at him and seen a dream. His mouth twitched when he recalled that she snored ever so lightly, a soft sound that signaled a deep, peaceful slumber. His smile faltered however when a slither of unease settled over him.
    She would not have thought him a dream when she awakened. She would have been shocked, even scared. He did not bother to look and see if her belongings were gone. They were. He pressed his palm deeper into the empty space beside him. Warmth still touched his skin. He sunk his face into her pillow and inhaled the lingering scent of her into his lungs. 
    Oranges.
    He groaned and tossed back the sheets. She hadn’t been hysterical when she left. It appeared to be significant somehow. He wanted to find her. He wanted—no—needed to learn everything about her.
    Yet, something nagged at him. Evelyn somehow seemed infinitely familiar… But hers was not a face he would forget.
    He hoped her journey did not take her to London—the one place he swore he would never re-turn to. He hated the city and everything it represented. The crowds, the noise, the smell, the filth, the pettiness of the ton and the games they played.
    He reached for his shirt when he noticed it was missing. Muscles rippled as he pushed away from the bed with a frown and strolled over to the chair where her gown lay rumpled on the floor. She had taken his shirt. If lions could grin he would have put them to shame. She wore his shirt. A predatory glint entered his eyes. It instantly made him hard. It was all he could do not to imagine her legs wrapped around his—
    The door burst open.
    If he’d been less of man he would have jumped out of his skin.
    “What the hell—”             
    His head snapped up as Carleton, his groom, filled the doorway breathing heavily. Growling in irritation that the man had interrupted his thoughts of Evelyn, he snapped, “Don’t you ever knock?"
    “Yes sir.”
    “So get out and knock.”
    Carleton didn’t move, ignoring his master’s command. “Sylvester has been stolen my lord,” he managed to croak, still trying to find his breath.
    “What are you—”
    “By a woman my lord,” he interrupted, uncaring of his master’s wrath. “Wore nothing but a shirt, saw it with me own eyes. Rode out of town like the devil himself nipped at her heels.” 
    Matthew blinked. A half-naked woman stole his horse? He snorted. Preposterous. “There are only two people in this world who can handle Sylvester, Carleton. A woman is not one of them,” he replied confidently.
    “My lord—”
    “It was not Sylvester that you saw.”
    “She wore your shirt, my lord,” Carleton interrupted, yet again.
    Matthew narrowed his eyes on his groom.
    Carleton nodded in understanding.
    “The bloodstain on the back?” He