Sweet Enemy Read Free Page B

so natural during his military life. “I hope you have better entertainments planned for your guests than Catch an Earl by His Nose or I fear they will be sorely disappointed.” He again turned to the door, lamenting for only a moment the hot meal and good night’s rest he would have to forgo. “As
I
shan’t be here.”
     
    He strode toward the hallway, contemplating the wisdom of pushing his horse another two hours back to the nearest coaching inn. It couldn’t be helped. A man had to stand on principle, after all. He would not have a bride foisted upon him. The earldom, yes. The responsibility of bringing his family back from the brink of financial ruin after more than a decade of his brother’s negligence and reckless spending, certainly. But a bride?
     
    Never. Whom he married would be his choice alone. And he had very specific requirements that his mother wouldn’t possibly understand.
     
    “Before you leave,” his mother called out, her voice still too smug for his liking, “you should know that when I sent the invitations—marked with
your
seal, of course—I made sure to include the Earls of Northumb and Manchester. Oh, and Viscount Holbrooke, I believe, as well as Lord Goddard. They were thrilled to accept.”
     
    For the second time in as many minutes, Geoffrey halted with one foot out the door.
She sent invitations using my name, my seal.
By God. Were she anyone else, he’d have her thrown in Newgate. Hell, the idea sounded rather appealing at the moment. How she’d gotten her hands upon the seal when it was kept under lock and key in his study, he didn’t know. He’d have to see it moved. But now he had a more pressing problem. She’d invited powerful political allies he couldn’t afford to offend. Had she known he was actively courting the support of these particular men?
     
    She must have.
     
    He closed his eyes—embarrassed, really, at having been so outmaneuvered. His mother had managed to arrange this entire farce without even a whisper reaching him. Had he underestimated the French this badly, he’d never have survived twelve long years of war.
     
    As he faced her once again, Geoffrey eyed his mother with grudging respect. Her smile held, but her knuckles whitened as she gripped her list. At least she wasn’t completely sure of his capitulation. Geoffrey took some small satisfaction in that.
     
    Still, she’d left him no immediate choice. He knew when to admit defeat.
     
    “It seems, Mother, that you have won the day,” he conceded with as much grace as he could muster. He gave his relatives a curt nod and, on his third attempt, quit the room.
     
    Geoffrey slapped his leather gloves against his aching thigh as he climbed the grand staircase to his rooms, one thought reverberating through his mind in time with his echoing footfalls.
     
    But I am going to win the war.
     
    *    *    *
     
    Miss Liliana Claremont fixed what she hoped was an appreciative smile on her face as she viewed Somerton Park for the first time. She found the Earl of Stratford’s country home rather attractive, for a lion’s den. But then, so was the Colosseum, she imagined.
    As her aunt and cousin bustled out of the carriage, Liliana studied the imposing redbrick home. A columned templelike portico dominated the front, forceful and proud. Like the rest of the house, it annunciated the wealth and power of the Wentworth family.
     
    Liliana swallowed. Had she really considered what she was up against?
     
    “Do hurry, girls!” Her aunt Eliza’s anxious voice interrupted Liliana’s contemplations. “That infernal carriage wheel has made us terribly late. We’ll be fortunate if we have time to make you presentable before dinner.” She eyed Liliana and her own daughter, Penelope, shrewdly. “The competition for Stratford shall be fierce. It’s not often young ladies have a chance to engage him in a social setting, and you can bet those other chits have spent all afternoon turning themselves