Surrender to the Earl Read Free Page B

chemise and petticoats, the better to lie down. Throughout, the maid chatted about the other young men who had arrived, four more of them. Molly was her own age of twenty-five, and Audrey remembered she had dark blond hair and freckles across her nose. Once Audrey had sheepishly asked if Molly still had them, and Molly had only laughed and said they’d since spread across her face. Audrey had then explained that the people she’d last seen as a seven-year-old must now look different, but she had no way to tell. Molly had told her to touch her face and feel the difference. To Audrey’s amazement, she really could “feel” the contours of Molly’s pert nose and apple cheeks and imagine what she must look like. Though grateful for Molly’s thoughtfulness, she knew she could ask no one else, especially her family, for such a personal favor. So she just had to go by what she remembered of them.
    Molly’s conversation came to the forefront when the maid said, “I caught a glimpse of his lordship in the hall.”
    “What does he look like?” Audrey asked with a bit too much eagerness. Now she was sounding like Blythe.
    “Don’t go moving your head while I’m trying to brush your hair, Miss Audrey.”
    Audrey had tried for years to have the maid call her by her Christian name, but she refused—although she did agree that “Mrs. Blake” was too formal for their relationship. And it was a true relationship, not mistress and servant. Molly was her dearest friend in the world, closer than her own sister. With no one else could Audrey be herself, ask silly questions, make mistakes. In front of her family, she had to always be at her best, for fear they’d start to treat her as an invalid again. Her mother had put a stop to that, but Audrey never felt safe now that she was gone. She kept waiting for someone to suggest there were hospitals for people like her.
    “Hold on, miss, I’m looking for a pin.”
    Audrey gritted her teeth until she felt Molly pluck the offending pin from her hair. “Well?”
    “You’re mighty interested in the earl,” Molly pointed out. “I wonder why that is.”
    Audrey couldn’t tell her the truth—not yet. Even Molly might think she risked too much, going off with a stranger. “I hear Blythe’s interest, and so I’m curious on her behalf.”
    “So are you wondering if this earl will finally take your sister off your hands?”
    Audrey grinned. “You know me too well, Molly. Now what does he look like, so I can decide if he meets Blythe’s standards.”
    “Oh, he does,” Molly said with easy humor. “He’s an earl, and he’s young and handsome.”
    “I could tell all of that just by listening to her breathless chatter.”
    Molly laughed. “But as for what he really looks like . . . he’s got the blackest hair, like a shadow in the night.”
    “I think your Irish stories are coming out.”
    The maid snorted. “That’s a compliment, Miss Audrey, and you know it. As for the earl, his eyes are this intense green, very vivid. Think of clovers, and you’ll know the color. He has laugh lines at his eyes and mouth, which I always consider a good sign in a man.”
    Laugh lines were a good thing. He must have gotten beyond the tragedy that had caused his business partner to lose hope. She admitted her own curiosity, but it was hardly something on which she would ever intrude.
    “You and all your experience with men,” Audrey said with mock seriousness.
    Molly giggled. “Don’t you remember my ma saying that?”
    “Not exactly, but it sounds like her.” Audrey sighed at the warm memories of her nanny, who, like her own mother, had treated Audrey as if she were a normal child, insisting she use her utensils correctly and even that she walk like a lady, though her hand might be following along a wall.
    “Did I hear right, that his lordship knew your husband?” Molly asked.
    “They were in the same regiment in India. You know Martin didn’t write much,” she said dryly,