To Win a Lady's Heart (The Landon Sisters) Read Free Page A

subject you might wish to broach with me.”
    “I have to broach a whole subject, do I? Here I thought we might make do with pleasantries.” Taking a moment to pretend to consider, he inhaled deeply. “This is going to be a challenge.”
    “Don’t strain to think on the matter quite yet, my lord. We couldn’t have it if you inflicted harm upon yourself now, could we?”
    “If it’s in the name of making the lady happy, I can hardly complain.”
    “Put the task aside and let it rest a while.” She gave a sage nod. “Perhaps you’ll surprise yourself with a burst of inspiration. I always have my best ideas when I least expect them. And, after all, you have the whole year.”
    “That leaves but a single question.”
    Her brows rose. “That is?”
    “Will it be enough time?”
    When she smiled, he smiled.
    It was odd, this—the ease that had grown between them in the space of so short a time. It could never have been possible in a drawing room. A ballroom was out of the question.
    He should have done this a long time ago. Talked to her.
    The door rattled. A female voice came through the other side. “Can anyone be in there?”
    He froze, staring at the wooden paneling. It might as well have been hiding a demon waiting to take him to hell.
    A second voice answered. “I daresay not.”
    The first spoke again. “I distinctly heard voices. A man’s voice and a woman’s.”
    “No. Unthinkable. You’re imagining things.”
    “I am not. Your hearing must be going.”
    A third chimed in. “That’s precisely it, though, isn’t it? Young people of today don’t think, do they? They’re frivolous as anything.”
    The second levied a sharp retort. “I recall you doing a frivolous thing or two in your youth.”
    By way of reply came a sour mutter. Something unintelligible followed by a grumbling, “…mind yourself, Lavinia.”
    Lavinia?
    Oh, no.
    Corbeau went cold. Only one person in all of his extended acquaintance whose Christian name was Lavinia, and she was unfortunately a guest of Max’s this week as well. Lavinia was none other than the Lady Rushworth herself.
    Before he could tell Lady Grace to hide—that he’d come back for her later—the door swung open.
    There they were, all three of them, their mouths agape at the sight they beheld. Not young ladies, either, but well-established older ladies. Married ladies. With Lady Rushworth were Lady Maxfeld, the hostess, and Lady Bennington, Grace’s mother. All of them sported a variation on a matron’s cap that covered hair ranging from pure white to peppery gray. They were supposed to be looking out for the younger, unmarried members of their sex crawling through the manor house this week.
    There was no question about what was racing through their minds.
    Lady Maxfeld, Max’s mother, covered her open mouth with her hand, head shaking as if not believing this could be happening, and under her roof.
    They were well and truly caught, Corbeau and Lady Grace…caught together. So many years of avoiding even the faintest hint of anything that might resemble scandalous behavior, all gone. He’d been trapped.
    The scene was so bad, it could almost have been staged for a comic play.
    Only there was nothing comic about what was happening to them.
    They looked from him to Lady Grace, the conclusions they drew illustrated with an artist’s precision on their faces. Not one of them were giving them the benefit of the doubt.
    The reality of the situation closed like a noose circling his throat.
    This wasn’t just bad. This was the worst it could be.
    “It’s not what you think.” Lady Grace’s voice wavered.
    A stern look of disapproval hardened over Lady Rushworth’s features, disdain ripe in the expression. Her brows arched, as if nothing Grace could do or say would convince her that Grace wasn’t a fallen woman. “Is it not?”
    The woman turned to Lady Bennington. “Not a respectable bone in any of your girls’ bodies, is there?” Her venomous gaze