The Leopard Prince (Princes #2)(46)

“Mr. Pye!”

Harry looked over his shoulder. The Earl of Maitland was hailing him from Woldsly’s steps. Jesus Christ, now what?

“Mr. Pye, if you’ll wait while my horse is brought around, I’d like to accompany you.”

He didn’t have much of a choice, now, did he? “Very well, my lord.”

He watched the earl stroll up while stable hands ran to do his bidding. Even if the other man hadn’t introduced himself at the cottage this morning, Harry would have known him. His eyes were his sister’s—clear, piercing blue.

A saddled horse was brought, and both men mounted. They rode out from the stable yard without saying a word. At least the earl was discreet.

Dark clouds glowered overhead, threatening yet more rain where none was wanted.

They were nearly to the gates when the earl spoke. “If it’s money you’re after, I can give you a pretty purse to speed you on your way.”

Harry looked at the earl—Tony, Lady Georgina had called him. His face was stony, but his lips curled ever so slightly at the corners, giving away his distaste. Harry almost felt sorry for him. “I’m not after money, my lord.”

“Don’t take me for a fool.” Tony’s nostrils flared. “I’ve seen the hut you’re living in, and your attire doesn’t bespeak even modest wealth. You’re after my sister’s money.”

“You see no other reason for me to seek the company of Lady Georgina?”

“I—”

“I wonder if you realize how close you are to insulting my lady,” Harry said.

A flush spread over the other man’s cheekbones. Harry remembered that the earl was Lady Georgina’s younger brother. He couldn’t be more than, what, five or six and twenty? His air of authority made him seem older.

“If you do not take my money and leave her alone, I’ll see that you’re dismissed without reference,” Tony said.

“I’m employed by your sister, not you, my lord.”

“Have you no pride, man?” Tony pulled his horse up short. “What kind of a cur preys on a lonely woman?”

Harry halted his horse as well. “Do you really think your sister wouldn’t see straight through a man trying to take advantage of her?”

Tony frowned. “You’ve put her in danger. Violet says our sister was attacked while in your company.”

Harry sighed. “Did Lady Violet also tell you that Lady Georgina fired a pistol at the attackers?” The other man’s eyes widened. “Or that if I’d had my way, she wouldn’t have been in the gig with me in the first place?”

Tony winced. “Rode roughshod over you, did she? She does have a persistent streak.”

Harry raised one eyebrow.

Tony coughed and started his horse. “Be that as it may, a gentleman doesn’t continue to press his attentions on a lady who can’t return them.”

“Then, as I see it, you have two problems, my lord,” Harry said.

Tony’s eyes narrowed.

“One, that the lady does, in fact, return my attentions, and two”—Harry turned to meet the earl’s gaze—“I am no gentleman.”

Chapter Eleven

“Violet, open this door!” George held her breath and applied her ear to the wood. Nothing. “I know you’re in there. I can hear you breathing.”

“You can’t.” Her sister’s voice came petulantly from inside.

Ha! “Violet Elizabeth Sarah Maitland. Open this door at once or I shall have Greaves take the hinges off.”

“No, you won’t. The hinges are inside.” Violet sounded triumphant.

So they were, the little minx. George inhaled and gritted her teeth. “Then I shall have him bash the door in.”

“You wouldn’t.” Violet’s voice was closer.

“I don’t believe you should count on that.” She crossed her arms and tapped one foot.

There came a scraping from the other side; then the door cracked open. One tear-stained eye peeped out.

“Oh, my dear.” George pushed the door the rest of the way open and walked in, closing it behind her. “Time to cut line. Whatever possessed you to write to Tony?”

Violet’s lower lip began to tremble. “That man has you in his clutches. He’s beguiled you with his caresses and his carnal wiles.”

Caresses and carnal wiles? George knit her brows. “What do you know about carnal wiles?”

Violet’s eyes widened. “Nothing,” she said much too fast. “Well, only what everybody hears.”

George stared as her younger sister blushed. It always was a problem, trying to lie with fair skin. “Violet,” she said slowly, “is there something you want to tell me?”

Violet let out a squeaking wail and flung herself into George’s arms. Oh, dear.

“There, there, sweet.” She stumbled back—Violet was an inch or two taller—and sat in the cushioned window seat. “It can’t be as bad as all that.”

Violet tried to speak, choked, and cried some more. George rocked her, murmuring the inanities one whispers to a distressed child, and brushed the hair back from her sister’s damp brow.

Violet inhaled, shuddering. “Y-you don’t understand. I’ve done something really awful.” She scrubbed her eyes with a hand. “I… I’ve sinned, George!”