Free Earl of Scandal (London Lords) by Mary Gillgannon Page A

he’s merely jealous of my full head of hair. Poor little mite is nearly bald.”
    Caroline laughed. “I think it means that he will be fair like me. My mother said that she despaired of my getting any hair. Then it grew in as masses of curls. A pity actually, I was hoping Michael would have his father’s coloring.”
    Christian gave a mock shudder. “Better he should look like Caroline, don’t you think, Devon?”
    “No doubt of it,” Devon responded emphatically.
    “Well, I guess I’ll take Rafe back to the nursery and then see to dinner.” Caroline started to hand the baby to Devon and then said, “Would you like to hold him, Christian? He’s really quite well-behaved for nine months.”
    Christian drew back and gave her an aghast look. “Good God, no. Just because I’ve consented to rot in the country for a few months doesn’t mean I’ll willingly sink into the appalling state of domesticity that Devon has. I have my reputation to uphold, you know, ma’am.”
    Caroline laughed and transferred the baby to his father’s arms, then came and kissed Christian’s cheek. “We really are delighted to have you, Christian. I promise I will try to see that things aren’t too tedious. In fact, before we left London, we asked a few people up for a house party. Sort of a spring thaw assemblage.”
    Christian brightened. “Truly? Whom did you invite?”
    “The Norwoods and Lady Hanscum, Lord Weston and his new wife, the Beeches and the Archfields. Let me know if there is anyone else you would like me to ask. We’ll be having a few of the local gentry, of course. Not your usual set, but very nice people. I’m certain there will be some young ladies amongst them who would very much enjoy getting to know you.” She winked.
    “I say, Caroline. Don’t be pushing any coy country misses my way. I have no intention of getting myself leg-shackled.”
    “Married life is really not so bad,” Devon put in. “Especially if you find the right woman.”
    Christian rolled his eyes. “I might have known you’d try to convert me to the virtues of matrimony now that you have me trapped here in Derlingham.”
    “Really, Christian,” Caroline laughed. “You act as if we were holding you prisoner.”
    Christian looked to Devon. “You haven’t told her about the wager?”
    “I thought you might prefer to have Caroline believe you were drawn here by the prospect of spending time in the company of your friends rather than the opportunity to best me in a gambling venture.”
    Christian’s mouth twitched. No matter what Devon said, he knew Caroline was in on the project of reforming Christian Faraday. He could well imagine the two of them on the way from London, trying to decide what dull, respectable miss they would pair him with.
    “It won’t work,” he told them. “If I ever fall in love, I’m certain it would be with some utterly unacceptable wench. An orange girl or an actress, perhaps. Or maybe a comely chambermaid.” He challenged them with a grin. “Face it. I’m incorrigible. I’ll never wed, and you don’t want me breaking some sweet thing’s heart, especially while she’s a guest of yours. If you insist on finding me female companionship, I can think of some delectable matrons whose taste runs to the same sort of liaison as mine.”
    “Actually an orange girl or chambermaid would be perfectly fine,” Caroline said. “If someone like that could get you to care for them, I’d welcome her into our house and insist that everyone treat her like a duchess.”
    “Indeed. Well, I know a certain young lady who might change your mind.” Christian smiled, thinking of the willful Merissa Cassell tangling with elegant Caroline Langley. “She has a tongue as tart as vinegar and scorns our whole class as a bunch of despicable libertines.”
    “Really, Christian. She sounds very interesting. Where did you make her acquaintance?”
    “On a desolate roadway a dozen or so miles away. It was quite dark, and she