An Angel for the Earl by Bárbara Metzger Page B

Kerry bluffed. “If I thought for a second you’d have—”
    â€œHow dare you?” she roared, sending roils of smoke toward the ceiling.
    Kerry backed up across the little bedchamber until his knees hit the narrow bed. He sat down and edged as far as possible away from this raging fury. If he’d still had doubts about her story, he was a believer now.
    â€œThat’s right, cower. Cringe, you puny lordling. Where is the arrogant cynicism now? If I don’t exist, why are your knees shaking? If you conjured me up from the depths of your depraved mind, why can’t you conjure me into your bed? Why?” she ranted. “I’ll tell you why, you boil on the butt of humanity. Because
I
, Miss Lucinda Faire, late of Fairview Manor, Derby, currently teetering on the brink of the River Styx, am in charge here.”
    Lucy clamped a hand over her mouth, suddenly aghast at what she’d said. Whatever happened to meek and dutiful little Miss Lucinda? She didn’t recognize herself in this body, this virago, this…this bordello. This last restored some of her indignation, especially since she could see her outburst had finally penetrated his lordship’s social veneer.
    â€œI have been very patient,” she went on in a milder tone, “waiting for you to see the error of your ways. Realizing that you are only a product of your times, and a male besides, I forgave your pride and pigheadedness. I have tolerated your insobriety, even your blasphemy. And I actually abetted you in your gambling, thinking that was the quickest way to set your mind on higher matters. But whoring? Whoring I shall not tolerate!”
    By now Lord Stanford deduced that he wasn’t about to be smoked like a kipper. Lucy needed him alive and kicking bad habits. He mopped his brow. “I, ah, did thank you for your assistance at the racetrack, you know.”
    Lucy was not appeased. “You’d better cherish your appreciation, my lord, for that was the last time. From now on, you bet, you lose.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
    Even in these circumstances Kerry noticed her chest was particularly generous. He smiled. “Cut line, Lucy, I didn’t always lose, even without your help.”
    â€œYou will now.”
    Somehow he believed her, not that he wouldn’t test her assertion at the first opportunity. “But if I am not to support myself by wagering, how do you propose I live? Does highway robbery suit your notions of morality any better than gambling?”
    â€œDon’t be goosish.” Lucy was studying the room. Her nose wrinkled at the damp gray towel, the chipped basin and unmatched pitcher.
    The earl stood up, trying not to be embarrassed in front of her at the dirt in the corners, the darned coverlet, and cracked mirror. This wasn’t his house, after all, just because he visited. “Now who is being goosish? You must know
my
father wasn’t any nabob, Miss Lucinda Faire of Fairview Manor. All he left me were debts and obligations.”
    â€œAnd your heritage. It’s past time you took up the reins of your responsibilities, my lord.”
    â€œWhat, become a country squire?”
    â€œThere are worse things.”
    â€œNot for me there aren’t. Oh, I enjoy the horses and the open spaces, but waking at cock’s crow and riding all day pall after a while. Furthermore, in case there is something you didn’t know about my personal life, Stanford Abbey needs a major investment of funds just to make the mortgages, much less a living. Needless to say, without gambling I have no chance to find that kind of gold.”
    â€œI do know you haven’t yet tried hard work.”
    He gave her a smile. “You think gaming is easy? Besides, the abbey doesn’t require another strong back, it requires a degree of expertise I haven’t got.”
    â€œThen learn,” she said in exasperation. “If you can understand the rules