Read Online Just One Season in London by Leigh Michaels - Free Book Online

had to admit if there was one who could drive him that far, it was likely to be Portia Langford. She had the tongue of an adder—making it sound as if he was the last man on earth who could possibly interest her.
    Not that he cared what she thought.
    She rethreaded her needle with a different shade of wool. “Still, it’s a trick you might wish to remember, my lord. If the heiress you choose is not agreeable to your suit, you could always manage to trap her in a room alone with you and arrange to be discovered by her mama.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind.” He went to the farthest corner of the drawing room to stand by the window, pretending to study the traffic down on the square. But even though his back was turned, he could feel her there. He could sense the movement of her hands as she plied the needle in fine, small, rhythmic motions. He could almost feel the cool touch of her fingertips—as though his skin were the canvas she was so carefully stitching.
    Nothing to recommend him, hmm? He had half a notion to go over there and show her it wasn’t just his title he could offer to a woman. It might be satisfying to kiss her senseless, to make her incapable of speaking, to leave her panting for his touch. To turn the stiff and upright Miss Langford into a puddle of femininity who would beg him not to stop…
    It wasn’t until the door opened and Lady Stone rustled in that Rye realized he had started across the room to act on the impulse. He cleared his throat and thanked heaven that she hadn’t waited another two minutes to make her entrance.
    Lady Stone ignored Miss Langford altogether and crossed directly to Rye, offering her hand. He bowed over it and apologized for being early.
    She gave a rusty laugh. “Not at all, Ryecroft. Your eagerness to get started makes me feel important. Come and sit down, and let’s discuss our strategy. For one thing we will need to consider how to play down your weak points and build on your strong ones.”
    Rye thought he heard a murmured “if he has any strong points,” from Miss Langford.
    â€œPerhaps,” Rye said, “we should excuse Miss Langford from this discussion, since she does not appear likely to enjoy it.”
    â€œOh, I’ll enjoy hearing about your weaknesses. Would you like me to keep a detailed list as you uncover them, ma’am?”
    Lady Stone had gone straight on. “Heiresses can be temperamental sorts, so we also need to plan out how best for you to approach them. If you’re aloof, they will pay no attention at all. Yet you must not appear too eager, for nothing makes a girl less interested than a gentleman who presents no challenge. And you must not be too particular to any one of them until you’ve definitely made up your mind and are certain your offer will be accepted.”
    There was a small, genteel sniff from the direction of the sofa.
    But Lady Stone seemed to have heard nothing. “You face troubling competition this year as well. It’s too bad you didn’t come up last Season, Ryecroft.”
    â€œHe must still have been with his tutor then, ma’am.”
    Rye told himself to ignore her, but with no effect. “It is true that last Season I had not yet reached my majority, Miss Langford, but the lessons to which I have applied myself in the past year are those of estate management.”
    â€œNo one could have outshone you.” Lady Stone sighed. “I vow, every bachelor on the Marriage Market last year had a cast in one eye or needed corsets or couldn’t dance a step.”
    â€œWhile this year, there’s the Earl of Whitfield.” Miss Langford ticked off points on her fingers. “Good family, young, nice looking, a respectable estate, and just back from Italy, so he’s got an air of romance about him.”
    â€œYes,” Lady Stone said gloomily. “All the girls will be after him.”
    â€œAnd there’s