Page 7 of Earl, Enemy, Husband?

He looked up impatiently. ‘What is that?’

‘I am saying that, as an unmarried woman, I really should not visit a gentleman alone. Primrose will have to go with me.’

Again his gaze had wandered back to the document before him.

‘Whatever you think. Your mother left you in charge of your sisters.’

That was the problem, wasn’t it? Her mother had left her in charge and Father had happily washed his hands of any responsibility. Except for the odd occasion he decided to lay down the law with a heavy hand.

If he were a proper father, he would go himself instead of leaving Primrose and her to visit the earl. But he hated leaving the house. She did not entirely blame him. He suffered from dropsy and it was painful for him to walk any distance. But even he should see that his daughters’ future was an important enough matter that obliged him to bestir himself.

But he didn’t. His books and his papers were the only things that engaged his interest. He waved a dismissive hand and picked up his pen. ‘Do as you think is fitting.’

He might not agree with what she thought of as fitting, but by the time he realised her plan hopefully it would be too late.

She left him to his work and went in search of Primrose. Her sister would have to look her very best this afternoon. It would be absolutely perfect if the earl fell in love at first sight.

A strangely hollow feeling filled her chest. Nonsense. Everything was going better than she could ever have hoped.

‘Miss Florence Dearing and Miss Primrose Dearing have called to see you, my lord,’ Mrs Spragg announced. ‘They say you are expecting them.’

Them? Frowning, Graydon looked up from the architect’s drawings spread before him on the desk. ‘I was not expecting anyone.’ Why hadn’t the dratted woman simply handed the handkerchief to his housekeeper? Why had he not told his housekeeper to expect their arrival and deal with them as he’d planned? He had forgotten.

Or…he had thought he might decide to see her himself and had said nothing. Damn it all. He didn’t know what he had thought.

‘Shall I ask them to leave?’ Mrs Spragg looked doubtful.

A doubtful Mrs Spragg warned him that it might be a bad idea. He sighed. ‘No. Bring them in.’

At least she hadn’t come alone. Meeting a young unmarried lady alone was a recipe for disaster, as his father had warned him countless times—with emphasis on the word ‘lady’. His father had been a reprobate.

Miss Dearing was a lady. No doubt about that, despite the rather run down look of the Dearing house. Lord knew, this house had looked pretty run down when he’d returned from Canada.

He rolled up the drawings and rose to his feet, ready to receive his guests. The return of a handkerchief should not take much time. ‘Do I need to offer them refreshment? Would it be rude not to? Or can they state their business and leave?’

Mrs Spragg had worked for a Society lady before moving to Canada. He trusted her knowledge in this sort of matter implicitly.

Mrs Spragg’s mouth tightened. ‘If I had known you were going to start entertaining before the house was ready, your lordship, I would have hired a maid and a footman.’

‘I didn’t ask them to call, Mrs Spragg.’ Though he hadn’t exactly told the woman not to come, now, had he? ‘I doubt there will be any more such visitors.’ He would make sure of it. ‘Show them in, and no tea.’

A few seconds passed before the two ladies were ushered in. Just enough time for him to pull on his coat and check his cravat in the mirror.

Mrs Spragg left them to it, but he noticed that she did not close the door behind her. Wise woman, Mrs Spragg. The last thing Graydon needed was to be caught in the parson’s mousetrap by some country bumpkin of a neighbour.

Miss Dearing made a gesture towards her sister, one of the most beautiful female creatures Graydon had ever beheld. He wasn’t sure that his jaw had dropped at the sight of her, but he made sure to close his mouth anyway.

‘This is my sister, Miss Primrose Dearing.’

Not the sister he had met in the garden. His collar tightened as a pair of vivid blue eyes regarded him and Cupid’s bow lips turned up in an enchanting smile. She had peaches-and-cream skin, blonde hair and a slender but well-shaped figure. She was as unlike her older sister as could be imagined.

Primrose Dearing dipped a curtsey. ‘Pleased to meet you, your lordship,’ she said in a musical voice.

The elder Miss Dearing was what in some circles would be called a pocket Venus, while her sister was a diamond of the first water variety. Neither appealed to him…did they? While Primrose was stunning, it was her older sister who drew his gaze. Likely because she had such a commanding manner for such a young woman, and such threatening eyebrows.

He bowed to the younger sister. ‘Miss Primrose, a pleasure.’

He turned his gaze back to her older sister and caught a smile of satisfaction on her face. What did she have to look so pleased about? ‘Are there any more of you at home?’ he said. ‘By my count, that makes three Dearing sisters I have encountered so far.’