bound to let someone come crashing though those barriers you've put up."
"No, your lordship, I assure you that is the last thing that will happen."
He wondered if she realized at that moment she had laid out a challenge it would be impossible for him to ignore.
Chapter 8
It had been a long, restless night and the morning hadn't gone much better. Mariah was informed a weasel had gotten into the henhouse. They'd lost several good laying hens and two cockerels that had been scheduled for dinner this week. Plus, the most dangerous type of weasel of all had somehow burrowed into Mariah's mind and simply would not leave.
She could not stop thinking about Lord Dovington.
Everything about the man should repulse her. He was vulgar and impertinent. He was stubborn and self-centered. He was the sort of man who would think nothing of ruining a woman's reputation as well as her heart. He was everything she'd devoted her life to avoiding, and here he was, occupying her house and every waking thought.
He interrupted her dreams, as well, and she was furious with herself over that.
What on earth was wrong with her? She knew all too well the consequences of giving in to silly infatuation, to trusting one's heart to a man who should not be trusted with so much as a penny. She knew exactly what sort of man he was and that he was destined to marry an heiress he didn't even like simply to gain the girl's money. How could she possibly let the dark promise in his eyes and the teasing grin at his lips be in any way attractive to her?
The man was a tiger, a wild beast. He saw women as nothing more than his next meal. He would single out his prey, happily devour her, ravage her soul, and leave her for dead—metaphorically speaking, of course. But the result would be no less devastating.
Clearly he viewed her as prey. And of course, she would be the most logical victim here. He knew she had no father, had no claims of respectability. Certainly her step-father had always treated her as his own, but Dovington obviously knew the truth. Ella was a child, the daughter of a gentleman; Mariah was not. Miss Vandenhoff had a doting father and buckets of money; Mariah did not. If Lord Dovington was to amuse himself with any female here, she would be his obvious choice and it had nothing to do with any great merit on her part.
She was merely convenient, and posed no threat in the way of consequences. If he could sway her, he'd be able to take what he wanted then simply walk away without a care in the world. He was the worst sort of bounder and she sensed danger oozing from him.
It was simply abhorrent that her heart would pound and her blood would quicken at the very sight of him. Yet it did. She walked into the breakfast room, simply hoping to make sure the servants had cleared things from earlier, and there he was. Her breath caught in her chest when his eyes fell on her and he gave that dratted, irresistible smile.
"Ah, Miss Langley, we were just discussing you."
Now she noticed a gentleman with him. A few years younger than the earl, this man was not quite as tall, not quite as broad, not quite as elegant, not quite as irresistible, and not the least bit dangerous. The family resemblance was obvious, though. Apparently the cousin had arrived.
"May I present my cousin , Edmund Chadburne," the earl announced as the younger man made gallant show of gushing over his hostess.
"I'm so happy to meet you, Miss Langley," he said in very amiable tones. " Dovey tells me you've done remarkable things with The Grove during your tenure as manager here."
She was impressed to learn that the earl had noticed her efforts, and almost giddy inside to hear that he'd spoken so highly of her. She refused to comment on any of that, though.
"Dovey?"
The earl cringed and his cousin guffawed. "Sorry, his lordship , I mean. He hates that old nickname."
"Old nickname? He's only had the title for a year, hasn't he?" she asked.
"Ah, but he's had the nickname for
"No, your lordship, I assure you that is the last thing that will happen."
He wondered if she realized at that moment she had laid out a challenge it would be impossible for him to ignore.
Chapter 8
It had been a long, restless night and the morning hadn't gone much better. Mariah was informed a weasel had gotten into the henhouse. They'd lost several good laying hens and two cockerels that had been scheduled for dinner this week. Plus, the most dangerous type of weasel of all had somehow burrowed into Mariah's mind and simply would not leave.
She could not stop thinking about Lord Dovington.
Everything about the man should repulse her. He was vulgar and impertinent. He was stubborn and self-centered. He was the sort of man who would think nothing of ruining a woman's reputation as well as her heart. He was everything she'd devoted her life to avoiding, and here he was, occupying her house and every waking thought.
He interrupted her dreams, as well, and she was furious with herself over that.
What on earth was wrong with her? She knew all too well the consequences of giving in to silly infatuation, to trusting one's heart to a man who should not be trusted with so much as a penny. She knew exactly what sort of man he was and that he was destined to marry an heiress he didn't even like simply to gain the girl's money. How could she possibly let the dark promise in his eyes and the teasing grin at his lips be in any way attractive to her?
The man was a tiger, a wild beast. He saw women as nothing more than his next meal. He would single out his prey, happily devour her, ravage her soul, and leave her for dead—metaphorically speaking, of course. But the result would be no less devastating.
Clearly he viewed her as prey. And of course, she would be the most logical victim here. He knew she had no father, had no claims of respectability. Certainly her step-father had always treated her as his own, but Dovington obviously knew the truth. Ella was a child, the daughter of a gentleman; Mariah was not. Miss Vandenhoff had a doting father and buckets of money; Mariah did not. If Lord Dovington was to amuse himself with any female here, she would be his obvious choice and it had nothing to do with any great merit on her part.
She was merely convenient, and posed no threat in the way of consequences. If he could sway her, he'd be able to take what he wanted then simply walk away without a care in the world. He was the worst sort of bounder and she sensed danger oozing from him.
It was simply abhorrent that her heart would pound and her blood would quicken at the very sight of him. Yet it did. She walked into the breakfast room, simply hoping to make sure the servants had cleared things from earlier, and there he was. Her breath caught in her chest when his eyes fell on her and he gave that dratted, irresistible smile.
"Ah, Miss Langley, we were just discussing you."
Now she noticed a gentleman with him. A few years younger than the earl, this man was not quite as tall, not quite as broad, not quite as elegant, not quite as irresistible, and not the least bit dangerous. The family resemblance was obvious, though. Apparently the cousin had arrived.
"May I present my cousin , Edmund Chadburne," the earl announced as the younger man made gallant show of gushing over his hostess.
"I'm so happy to meet you, Miss Langley," he said in very amiable tones. " Dovey tells me you've done remarkable things with The Grove during your tenure as manager here."
She was impressed to learn that the earl had noticed her efforts, and almost giddy inside to hear that he'd spoken so highly of her. She refused to comment on any of that, though.
"Dovey?"
The earl cringed and his cousin guffawed. "Sorry, his lordship , I mean. He hates that old nickname."
"Old nickname? He's only had the title for a year, hasn't he?" she asked.
"Ah, but he's had the nickname for
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