Free How to Entice an Earl by Manda Collins Page A

the loud chatter inside the house.
    A kinetic silence fell over them as they walked, arm in arm, toward a small alcove created by a bower of spring peonies trained to grow tall and tower over a bench. Reaching the secluded nook, Gresham stepped back and allowed Maddie to take a seat while he remained standing. Her independent nature didn’t much care for the asymmetry of the arrangement, but some traitorous impulse within her did.
    “You are recovered from last night’s ordeal?” he asked, his gaze boring into her.
    There was an intensity in his question that puzzled her. He had seen her home last evening, after all, and assured himself that she was well. She had lain awake long after arriving home, unable to get the image of Mr. Tinker’s face as he breathed his last out of her mind. But eventually she’d drifted off. Not that she would reveal any of that to Gresham, of course.
    “Yes,” Maddie responded. “Thank you for asking, my lord.”
    His curt nod indicated that he’d expected as much. But it was Gresham’s next words that indicated to Maddie that her welfare was not his only reason for asking her here.
    “I have heard from more than one source that you are claiming not to have witnessed anything about the man who killed Tinker last night,” he said briskly. “Is that correct?”
    Relieved, and a little disappointed that the charged atmosphere between them had disappeared, Maddie nodded. “It’s nothing more than the truth. I didn’t see the man who killed Tinker.”
    “How well did you know him?” Gresham asked. Then, perhaps realizing that it was an impertinent question, he added, “If you wish to tell me, that is.” Though it was clear that the amendment was only for courtesy’s sake.
    Deciding that answering the question would harm no one, Maddie said, “I’ve known him as a friend of my brother’s for some years. Mama did not see him as the sort of person a young lady should spend a great deal of time with, however, so we were never in the same company above a dozen times.”
    “It’s not like you to back down from a parental dictate,” Gresham said with a raised brow. “Did you obey her?”
    Maddie bit back a huff of annoyance. “Of course I obeyed her. To be perfectly truthful, I found him a bit of a bore. All he talked about was horseflesh and racing. Not a favorite interest of mine.”
    “What do you know of his friendship with your brother?”
    This question stopped Maddie cold. “Why are you asking about Linton?” she demanded, though she knew the answer without asking.
    Gresham looked as if he wished to evade the question, but said, “I don’t know if your brother had anything to do with his friend’s death, but it is a possibility. His disappearance doesn’t make him seem innocent.”
    Before Maddie could protest further, he lowered himself to the bench beside her. At eye level now, he said, “I didn’t bring you out here to discuss your brother or his friends.”
    Maddie was disconcerted once more by those intense eyes. “I wanted to tell you,” he went on, “that you are doing the right thing in telling everyone that you saw nothing last night.”
    He took her gloved hand in his. Maddie tried and failed to ignore the frisson of awareness that vibrated through her.
    “The last thing you need is to draw the attention of a killer,” Gresham said seriously.
    “So you don’t think Linton did it?” Maddie heard herself ask. It was a good thing, she told herself, that he didn’t suspect her brother. A very good thing.
    His lips tightened. “I didn’t say that,” Gresham admitted, making her stomach leap in fear for her brother. “I simply think that if the man who killed Tinker is not your brother, then you could do much worse than to let him know that you are not a threat.”
    “If?” Maddie demanded, pulling her hand from his grasp, looking Gresham boldly in the eye. “I know for a fact that my brother didn’t kill his friend. He might be a gambler and