Page 13 of 10 Things I Hate About the Earl

Chapter 6

At breakfast next morning, Kate poured out her tea, remembering her waltz with Lord Finley with great fondness. She dropped in two lumps of sugar, stirred, then sipped slowly, staring across the table at an empty chair, imagining Lord Finley seated there. He’d been an excellent partner in both their dances, although if she had to admit it, Lord Haversham was actually the better dancer. But that was the only thing in which her nemesis excelled. In all other manners and characteristics, Lord Finley had proved to be the better man.

The only problem, however, was his apparent attraction to Celinda and her outright preference for him. He’d spend much of their waltz asking about Lord Halford and Lady Celinda, veiled inquiries that had fooled Kate not at all. She’d thought love at first sight only happened in the romance novels she borrowed from the circulating library. Apparently, she’d been wrong about that. Not that she was giving up on Lord Finley quite yet, but she couldn’t afford to stop looking for other suitors as well.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Nathan entered the breakfast room with an uncharacteristically sunny countenance. “It’s such a lovely day, don’t you think?”

Kate glanced out the window at the overcast sky and shrugged. “You must have woken up in a different world than I did, brother, to make that statement true.”

“Well, a little rain never hurt anyone, did it?” Her brother settled himself across from her, in the very seat she’d been dreaming of Lord Finley occupying, putting paid to that particular castle in the air. “Have you given any more thought to my suggestion of last night?” He busied himself laying his napkin in his lap, but his covert gaze was trained on her.

“Regarding what, Nathan? We spoke of several very different topics last evening.” Wary now, Kate sipped her tea, steeling herself for his reply.

“My suggestion that you and Marcus would make a good match.” Nathan motioned to a footman, who brought him a cup of coffee immediately.

“Why would I give that idiotic idea any more thought at all, brother?” Kate affected an air of dismissal and pointedly stuck her fork in one of the plump sausages on the plate the footman had just placed in front of her. “As I stated yesterday, I cannot fathom the idea of marrying Lord Haversham.” As if to end the conversation once and for all, she cut off a chunk of the sausage link, popped it into her mouth, and chewed with gusto.

“You really should consider it, Kate.” Nathan stared steadily at her. “Unless you’ve developed a tendre for Bertie Symmons, I’m not aware of any other gentlemen who might be interested in courting you.”

Almost choking, Kate seized her tea and gulped it to dislodge the sausage that had stuck in her throat. When she could speak, she glared at her brother. “I have no desire to become affianced to either Bertie or Lord Haversham. You should know that, if you know nothing else at all about me. Bertie would bore me to tears before the banns could be read, and there are no words to describe what I feel about Lord Haversham.”

“Then find some, my dear.” Her brother put his cup into its saucer. “Tell me why you are so set against Marcus.”

Well, she would put a stop to her brother’s nonsense this moment. “Because I hate everything about the man, Nathan. I know he’s your best friend and has been for years, but I have disliked him ever since you brought him home. I’ve made no bones about it before, and I make none now.”

A smile played around Nathan’s lips, and he leaned back in his chair. “Oh, surely that cannot be true, Kate. You hate everything about Haversham?”

“Yes, I do.” Her brother could be stubborn as a goose when he wanted to be.

“Prove it.”

Bewildered, she frowned at him. “What do you mean, prove it?”

“Make a list for me.”

“I beg your pardon?” Her brother must’ve woken up with addled brains this morning.

“Make a list… I’ll make it easy for you. Make a list of just ten things you hate about Marcus.”

“Why would I do that?” Suddenly nervous, Kate pushed her breakfast around her plate, her appetite vanished.

“As a wager.” Nathan’s eyes flashed the challenge at her. “You list ten things you hate about my friend—with an explanation of each—and I will cease to suggest you should consider marrying him.”

Now that was a wager she could get behind. Kate opened her mouth to accept then stopped, the memory of losing the wager over Calabree—and its penalty—still fresh in her mind. “And if I cannot come up with ten things I hate about him?” Fat chance of that, but best to make all the terms clear.

“Then you must accompany Lord Haversham on an outing of my choice one afternoon.”

On the verge of saying, “Absolutely not,” she paused to reconsider. What did she have to lose? She could recite all the things she hated about Lord Haversham like a litany. On the other hand, she had much to gain when she won, for she would not have to put up with her brother’s incessant nagging about her marrying the earl. If half an hour’s scribbling would put an end to that torture, she’d gladly take that wager. “Done.” She picked up her fork and stabbed the sausage once more. “When would you like me to give you the list?”

“By this afternoon should be sufficient.” Her brother’s face was inscrutable.

Did he truly think she couldn’t come up with a mere ten things she loathed about Lord Haversham? He obviously hadn’t been listening to her conversation for the past seven years. His loss now. Kate drained her tea, set the cup back in its saucer, and rose. “I’ll bring it to you before teatime, if that’s agreeable?”

“Absolutely.” Nathan stood, a pucker to his lips. “Good luck.”

With a laugh, Kate strode out of the room. She wasn’t going to need luck, just a good quill, a sharp knife, and a full inkpot.

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