Free Lady Alexandra's Excellent Adventure: A Summersby Tale by Sophie Barnes Page B

added casually.
    “I’m afraid to disappoint you, but with even the littlest bit of luck, it won’t be either,” Michael told him rather adamantly.
    “Oh?”
    “I have no intention of marrying anybody and most certainly not a woman I’ve only just met. Hell, you know my reputation, Summersby. I am quite content with my life as it is. I have no desire to find myself leg shackled—least of all to a boisterous hoyden like your sister. No offense.”
    “None taken, though I must admit that I rather thought a man such as yourself might find her . . . refreshing.”
    Michael scowled at Ryan. The man apparently knew his mind better than he would have thought. Still, he loved his freedom. He enjoyed having whichever one of his mistresses struck his fancy, visiting his club, and whiling away the hours of the night with gambling and drink whenever he felt like it. The last thing he needed was to tie himself down to an opinionated woman. He shuddered as he thought of all the men he’d known . . . how they’d been reformed the minute they’d said “yes” at the altar. It would be a cold day in hell before he wandered down that path.
    “And if my presumption is correct”—Ryan continued in an even tone, bringing Michael out of his reverie—“then I merely wish to inform you that whatever it was you were thinking when you looked at her—yes, Ashford, I do have eyes in my head—you’d best stop it right away unless the word matrimony is on your mind as well.”
    Well, I’ll be damned. The pup has teeth .
    “I won’t see Alexandra ruined,” Ryan told him brusquely. “I hope you understand that. I know she’s not the conventional sort of woman, but she’s my sister all the same, and I love her. I have her best interests at heart, so if your intentions toward her are noble, then I shall be happy to discuss them with you.”
    Michael drew a deep breath as he handed Ryan a new glass of claret. Taking a large gulp of his own, he considered Ryan’s words.
    Marriage .
    Not in this lifetime .
    Yet he’d also come to realize that Alexandra Summersby was beyond anything he’d ever encountered before. “She’s getting to me,” he said suddenly, surprising even himself.
    Ryan nodded. “That is understandable. She does leave a lasting impression.” He got to his feet and walked over to the large windows. “I think you ought to give her a chance, Ashford. I think you would be well suited for each other, though if you tell her I said that, I will most assuredly deny it,” he said, giving Michael a sidelong glance.
    Michael grinned before taking another sip of his whiskey. “What you are implying is complete lunacy. She and I barely know each other. Hell, we’ve only just met, and you are suggesting that—”
    “That you get to know her,” Ryan said, cutting him off. “That is all I am saying for now. But my promise still holds. If you as much as lay a finger on her without the right intentions in mind, I will personally string you up by your ballocks. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
    “Perfectly,” Michael conceded as his eyes met Ryan’s. The pup wasn’t kidding he realized. Not by a long shot.

 
    C HAPTER E IGHT
     
    T hree days went by without the slightest hint of where they might find William. They’d each scouted the parts of the city that were frequented the most by Napoleon’s men, but there was simply no sign of him anywhere. On top of that, the tension between Alexandra and Michael had stretched the air thin. She refused to so much as be in the same room as him, and whenever Ryan confronted her about it, she’d cross her arms and proceed to recite a long list of all the things that were wrong with him. It was steadily growing and currently affirmed that Michael was the most arrogant of all men, the most despicable, the vilest, a scourge on the aristocracy, a scraggy nick-ninny. He was also bracket-faced, a jackanapes, a numskull, and, most recent, too much of a Friday-faced