Free The Earl's Bargain (Historical Regency Romance) by Cheryl Bolen Page B

imminent.
Which would considerably slow their progress. It was cool, too.
Much colder than it had been in weeks.
    Lord Wycliff handed her into the coach, and
she was pleased that he had provided a rug for her.
    When he started to sit beside her, she
protested. "I think not, my lord. There are just the two of us. We
can each have our own seat for the journey."
    "Ah," he said, sitting opposite of her,
"unlike me, you are thinking quite clearly this morning. I fear I
am a creature of habit."
    "I trust you were up late last night reading
one of the books I provided for you," she said mischievously.
    His black eyes sparkled. "To be sure." Then
he cocked his hat and slid down in his seat, giving every
appearance of a man taking a nap.
    She knew so very little
about him. Had he really been up late reading her book, or had he
spent the night gaming and womanizing as other men of his class
did? From their rides at Hyde Park and from the ball at Lord
Seymour's, it was clear that Lord Wycliff was well known in
the ton , especially
among the women. Their unabashed flirting with him had given Louisa
a peculiar surge of pleasure that was not unconnected to
possessiveness.
    Despite that she was tired this morning, she
continued to peer from the window. It had now begun to rain. The
streets quickly filled with mud and water and noxious odors. She
could not say that she would regret leaving behind this city with
its sooty skies and stinking air and pitiable creatures at every
turn.
    She looked away from the sight of a small
boy who could not have been more than five years old but was alone
on the pavement, wearing shoes several sizes too large for his tiny
feet. The poor lad didn't even have a coat to shield him from the
day's cold.
    She gathered the rug about her and grew
morose. Her thoughts, like the skies, turned melancholy. She knew
she must direct her energies even more potently toward helping
children like the lad she had just seen.
    Perhaps she did need to continue living in
London. Once he got the information he desired, would Lord Wycliff
continue taking her to events where she could meet men of power?
Would he be true to his word and take his seat in Parliament in
order to promulgate the beliefs she had imparted to him? Or was his
interest feigned in order to gain what he wanted?
    Again, Louisa realized she knew very little
about the man who reposed across from her, his long muscular legs
taking up a great deal of the inside of the carriage. She stared at
his solid thighs and realized they were nearly as big around as her
waist.
    She took note of the quality of his well
tailored pantaloons and the workmanship of his boots. They were
obviously very expensive but not showy like something Godwin would
have worn. The difference between Lord Wycliff's class and Godwin's
aspirations to emulate it was as distinct as night from day.
    However, that was not to say she liked the
peer. His worth had yet to be proven. Her approval would continue
to be withheld from him. After all, he was a man, and God knows
none of them were trustworthy.
    By the time Lord Wycliff's coachman had paid
at the last London tollgate, the rain was falling onto the carriage
roof likes buckets being emptied. She felt terribly sorry for the
poor coachman, for in addition to the pounding rain, it had become
bitterly cold.
    And through it all, Lord Wycliff slept.
    Louisa was discovering the
rug, thick and tightly woven wool though it was, offered little
protection against the chill that seeped to her very bones. How could Lord Wycliff sleep through such
discomfort ? Then she remembered her elder
brother, who had an unfortunate drinking problem. Frederick, after
a night of overindulging, was oblivious to everything. She
remembered the time Ellie had poured icy water on him in a vain
effort to awaken him for Sunday services. He had merely turned over
and continued snoring.
    Could Lord Wycliff be sleeping one off? With
such thoughts ringing in her brain and her arms tucked