Page 23 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

She arched a delicate brow. ‘Me? Fine, I’m sorry you took what you saw incorrectly.’

‘That’s hardly an apology.’

Her smile deepened. ‘Your turn.’

He gave her an incredulous look. ‘You want me to apologize?’

‘Yes. You spoke quite rudely to me and, as I said, you insulted me.’

He sighed. ‘Fine, I shall not speak rudely. Meanwhile, stay away from the likes of Sir Simon.’

She blinked long lashes. ‘For how long?’

‘Forever,’ he ground out.

She tilted her head to the side, revealing her slender neck. ‘That may be difficult as there are less than a dozen guests at this house party.’

She had a good point, but she also knew what he meant. ‘The house party will end soon and we will return to Town.’

‘Yes, to marry.’ Her voice lowered, soft and sultry.

His thoughts immediately turned to the wedding night. For a man who had never wanted to marry her, he’d envisioned her in his bed one too many times. She’d be soft and willing after he’d seduced her. He’d take his time initiating her in the act and drawing out her pleasure. Knowing her, she’d also be an active participant in the bedchamber. The images made his mouth dry and aroused him more.

‘And if I run into Sir Simon in Town?’ she asked.

He was beginning to feel like an idiot. ‘Ignore him.’

‘I see. Is there anyone else I should ignore?’

He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Not that I can think of.’

‘Good to know. Now, if you will excuse me, my lord, I believe the terrace air has become even more stifling than inside.’ She swept by him and, without looking back, returned to the house.

Ralston gripped the banister as he watched her disappear through the French doors. She was outrageous and unexpected. Frustrated longing commingled with ridiculous jealousy had made him act like a cad. Would it always be this way with her? Christ, he didn’t trust himself in her presence.

Another question sprang to mind, one even more devastatingly intriguing.

What else would she make him do?

Chapter Eight

Excitement thrummed in the air the following evening at the village fair. Carriages lined the drive, ready to take the house guests for a night of revelry. Nora stepped inside a carriage with her mother and two sisters.

‘I hope they have cider and spiced gingerbread,’ Candace said.

‘I’d like new ribbons to match a few of my dresses,’ Sara said.

Nora leaned forward on the bench, practically feeling her sisters’ excitement. ‘I hear there is cake judging.’

‘Cake!’ Both Candace and Sara cried out.

‘Girls! Remember to act with decorum,’ their mother admonished.

By the time the carriages arrived at the edge of the village green, the sun had dipped towards the horizon, the last rays streaking the sky in soft amber and rose. Nora descended the carriage alongside her sisters to join the other guests and countryfolk.

The village green had shifted into its most magical hour and was abuzz with activity. Lanterns floated like stars on strings above bustling stalls, casting golden light on the crowd. Vendors sold everything from gingerbread and spiced cider to children’s toys, clothing, music boxes and trinkets, and paste jewels that looked real beneath the lamplight. The scent of spiced ale, mincemeat pies, sugared nuts and roasted apples scented the air. Children chased hoops between the stalls, dogs barked, and the mood of the fair was light with laughter.

Wide-eyed, Nora took in the scene, debating which stall to visit first. Candace was drawn to an artist as he sketched the figure of a young girl with a basket of flowers. Sara stopped by a stall selling ribbons in every colour of the rainbow.