The Charmer Read Free Page A

darted away and
wandered around the garden, avoiding her. "He's new to my employ but
trustworthy. And very strong, very capable. He'll do whatever you ask of him. I
highly recommend him to you."
    Why was he insisting? What could
possibly be in it for Jeffrey? He wasn't a terrible person, but he never did
anything out of the goodness of his heart. If it had been anyone else, she
would have thought he was trying to woo her, but being her cousin by marriage
meant a union between them was unthinkable as well as illegal. Perhaps he
needed her to act as lady of Sutton Hall for some important visitors.
    Like his cousin before him,
Jeffrey planned on putting Sutton Hall on the map, or at least the map used by
the nobility with influence at court. Being a baron wasn't enough for Jeffrey.
He wanted to be noticed , and that meant having the right people visit
and ensuring they were entertained during their stay. Phillip had been a natural
host, charming and witty, attentive but not sycophantic. Jeffrey would have a
more difficult time of it. He plodded through conversations, failing to grasp
subtle changes in moods or clever retorts. He needed a friend to guide him
through prickly political and social situations with high ranking guests, which
was why Susanna would be a terrible hostess. She'd learned from her two marriages
that being the perfect gentleman's wife didn't come easily to her. She
preferred her garden to the ballroom and tending the orange trees to indulging
the whims of fat noblemen.
    "Susanna, please, I insist.
I beg of you to accept my offer to help."
    Insist? Beg? Rather strong words for
a simple offer. She shook her head and grabbed the edges of the pail and
dragged it along the path.
    "Whoa, mistress, stop,"
a vaguely familiar voice said from behind her. Before she could turn around,
big brown hands grasped the pail and lifted it. Lifted it! She looked up,
straight into the blue eyes of Orlando Holt.
    "Where do you want it?"
He gave her a smile and a dimple appeared in each cheek. Now that he was closer
she could see that he was indeed older than she first thought. Those dimples
made him look impish, as if he'd been caught stealing from a plate of
sweetmeats. She had the ridiculous urge to press her smallest finger into them.
    "Lady Lynden?" he
prompted. His smile widened. The man knew what she was thinking. She was
certain of it. Curse him.
    "Over there," she said,
pointing to the nearest tree. She watched as he carried the full pail to the
tree. He wore only a jerkin over his shirt, like her, but where her clothes
were big and loose, his jerkin stretched tautly over his shoulders and across
his back.
    "Who is that?" Jeffrey
said, coming up beside her. "A new servant?"
    "A vagrant," she said
and bit back a laugh. Holt had emphatically argued with her over the point only
a little while ago. She couldn't deny sparring with him had made her feel more
alive than she had felt in months. Odd how such a simple exchange with a
stranger could do that. She must have been more desperate than she thought for
witty company. It certainly wasn't the handsome and charming male company she
missed—she'd had enough of that from her two husbands to last a lifetime.
    "My name is Orlando
Holt," Holt said, rejoining them. A few strands of his blond hair had
flopped over his forehead but otherwise he showed no signs of exertion. He nodded
at Jeffrey in greeting. "I'm a servant here."
    "You most certainly are
not!" she snapped.
    He grinned again. Good lord, did
he ever not smile? "I am. Mr. Farley has added me to his
staff."
    "You spoke to my father
after I told you to leave?" The insolent, devious... vagrant ! "Go
back inside and tell him you'll not accept his offer." When he didn't
move, she took a step closer, but that was a mistake because it only emphasized
how much bigger than her he was. She came up to the middle of his chest.
    "I have offered my services
and your father has agreed to my terms," he said, his eyes sparkling