The Rambunctious Lady Royston Read Free Page B

take what I desire when I see it. Yet, as I said, I'm bored with my existence. In fact, the only emotion I have felt since the grief engendered by my brother's death was my extreme annoyance with you yesterday. Today you have amused me, my second voyage into this phenomenon called emotion in two days. I have astonished myself. I look at you and I am already assured you would never bore me, or at least not for some time. Therefore it would seem my first problem is solved."
    There was really nothing to say to that, so Samantha, believing she was for once in her life behaving prudently, said nothing.
    "Strangely, solving the first problem also solves the second. You're young in years, but not that young, and probably haven't been young in most ways in a decade, at least where it counts. Therefore, I shall approach your father this afternoon for your hand. The wedding shall take place before the month is out. I like things to be neat, don't you?"
    Samantha jumped to her feet. "You're out of your mind!" she accused shrilly.
    "That had occurred to me, Sam." He started towards the door. "And close your mouth. It makes you look simple-minded, and that's the one thing I know you are not."
    "My name is Samantha," she shouted at his retreating back. "And I wouldn't marry you if you came wrapped up in priceless gold chains and were next in line for the throne."
    He turned towards her and smiled. "Really? I don't know of another woman in England who would cast me aside so quickly. I hope you never come to love me, for you would lose all your fire."
    "There's scant chance of that eventuality. I loathe you! To put it in terms you should be able to comprehend, you are a conceited, pompous ass."
    "Good," he returned, not turning a hair. "You'll give me lusty sons, Sam. That's really all I require."
    Samantha sat down heavily and burst into tears.
    "What? Tears? Oh, no, perhaps I've been too hasty. It appears you're just like any other female, resorting to weeping when things go wrong. I must have misjudged you."
    Samantha picked up her aunt's sewing basket—the closest thing to hand—and aimed it at his head as if to throw it.
    "Ah, I thought not. You've restored my faith in you, Sam. Don't forget to advise your father of my impending visit. I'm assured he will arrange to be at home for me."
    "I hate you!"
    He executed a graceful leg in acknowledgement of her declaration. "And I feel nothing at all for you. Interesting, is it not? Good day, my dear."
    All this commotion finally served to wake Aunt Loretta. "Oh, dear," she cried, rubbing at her eyes. "Has the Earl gone, then? I hope you made my apologies."
    Samantha sent her aunt a withering look. "You are of about as much use as a chaperone as a stuffed owl. That odious man just proposed, and you slept through the whole thing!"
    "Proposed? But where is Isabella? I must congratulate her! This is the catch of the season, I vow it is." Aunt Loretta hastily began gathering her shawls around her.
    "He didn't propose to Izzy," Samantha said acidly. "It's me he wants."
    Her aunt's agitated movements came to an abrupt halt. "But you're barely out of the schoolroom. Whatever can he want from you, Samantha dear?"
    "Two things, Aunt," she told her dryly. "Entertainment and sons. It seems he sees me as a cross between a court jester and a brood mare. Isn't that romantic?" Samantha turned on her heel and left the room.
    "Entertainment and sons?" her aunt repeated dully to the empty room. "I really mustn't stay up so late at night. The most interesting things seem to be happening in the daytime."

Chapter Three
     
    It did not surprise Samantha a whit that her father all but fell on the Earl's neck when he asked for Sir Stephen's troublesome younger daughter's hand in marriage. Neither tears nor threats could sway him from his stand that with this marriage their fortunes would be made. Isabella was certain to be snatched up almost immediately once her sister the Countess presented her to Society, and he