The Redemption of a Dissolute Earl Read Free Page A

things right.
    In the spirit of embracing the offering, he
pulled Char tighter, wincing when she tried to squirm away from
him. Fate may have given him a gift, but he suspected a hearty
payment of groveling was due before he could claim his prize. “I
see you’ve not forgotten or forgiven.”
    “Surely you jest?” Char’s perfectly kissable
red lips turned down into a frown.
    His groin pulsed to painful awareness of the
woman he held so close. He cleared his throat. “I was a weak,
damnable ass.”
    She jerked one arm free and then the other.
“At least we agree on that.” She was good at deftly maneuvering out
of his grasp, but she was no match for him. He smiled the roguish
smile he knew she once loved as he tapped his fingers, now twined
securely around her waist. “You’re fast, but as usual, I’m
faster.”
    The line that had served to send them both
into bales of laughter in the past, elicited a deeper frown from
Char. Perhaps reminding her of how he had always managed to capture
her and undress her before she could stop her laughter and protest
was not one of his wisest decisions. “I’m sorry,” he hurriedly
supplied. By God he was . His heart throbbed with just how
damnably sorry he was.
    “You’re precisely twelve months too late.”
She glanced down at his arms wrapped around her waist, her gaze
flickering to the right as a troupe of actors and actresses rushed
past them and bumped into each other in their attempt to gape.
Several people collided as they skirted around the dark-haired
buffoon standing in the middle of the narrow hall who was staring
directly at Drew.
    Wait a bloody minute . The buffoon
wasn’t staring at him―the man was leering at Char as if she were a
puzzle he had just figured out. Swinging Char around so her back
would be to the nosy man, Drew looked into her eyes and, decision
firmly made, moved his hands to grip her delicate face and say what
he should have said twelve months ago. He’d rather be penniless
than spend one more minute without this woman in his life. He
grinned at the twitching of her lips. She always twitched when she
was angry.
    He’d soothe her anger with his apology and
explanation of his sorry character, but he needed to be quick and
employ every weapon at his disposal. He frowned. What weapons did
he have to sway Char with? He searched his mind and smiled. Char’s
father had raised her on the good book. Surely, she’d be more apt
to forgive if he could show God was on his side.
    “Char—” he began and coughed to clear the
tremble from his voice. “It’s hard for a rich man—” he stopped
again and tried to recall the exact wording of the scene in Mark he
was trying to quote. Damnation . He should have drunk less
tonight and striven to be a better listener all the times
his mother had preached the Bible.
    “Don’t say another word,” Charlotte hissed,
her face white under the rouge that should have made her look
vibrantly alive. As it stood, the unusual paleness of her skin was
sharply contrasted by the makeup and gave her an overall deathly
pallor. An uneasy feeling coursed through Drew.
    “Char, what is it?” He’d not bloody fumbled
it all that badly, had he?
    “Let me go.” She jerked his hands away from
her face, scooted around him, and went to the waiting and open arms
of the buffoon.
    As she hovered in the other man’s arms, Drew
stared at the two of them for a moment, astonishment turning to
confusion turning to recognition. “Salisbury?” Drew croaked.
    The Marquess of Salisbury inclined his head.
“Hardwick.”
    Drew withdrew his handkerchief and wiped it
across his damp brow. After he won Char back, he needed a long
sleep. He drank too much to sleep well in Paris, and even if he
hadn’t drank a steady stream of whiskey on the boat ride back to
England, he could not have slept with the Channel waters being so
rough. “What the hell are you doing at the Sans Peril?”
    “I’m here because of my