Free Yankee Earl by Shirl Henke Page B

dowry. Deep inside, she feared that he was right.
           “And how fortunate that the viscount has such a clever daughter who has concocted the perfect way to thwart them.” He watched as she began to pace nervously, unable to tear his eyes from the delectable curve of her derriere. Who would ever have imagined a woman could look so inviting in a pair of twill britches?
           She let him fall in step beside her, the two mastiffs sniffing adoringly at his heels. Fickle creatures. As they walked around the water's edge, Rachel noted the way his long legs perfectly matched her own stride, remembering the way they had danced together at the ball. Forcing her thoughts from such disquieting musings, she reminded him, “You agreed that the best way to approach this problem was to appear resistant to the match at first. My father would have suspected something was amiss if I'd done what was proper at the ball, and I'm equally certain that crafty old marquess would have assigned someone to watch your every move if you'd pretended to agree to their plans.”
           “You could have warned me that you intended to drown me in champagne,” he said with wry amusement.
           “It had to look convincing, did it not? I could have broken the Waterford punch bowl over your thick skull.”
           “I shall attempt to be suitably grateful,” he replied dryly. “When I answer your father's summons to dinner on Friday next, should I be perfunctorily polite to you?”
           “That would test your acting ability to the extreme. A bit of residual anger is a better idea. I warrant that after your display in the library and what transpired at the betrothal announcement, Papa will expect you to be in a howling rage.”
           "That I can manage, but gradually we shall have to act civil to each other in their presence if we are to convince them to let down their guard."
           “Very gradually. Remember, they know us well and would not believe for a moment that we'd simply capitulate. 'Twill take me a bit of time to arrange ship's passage in Bristol, too.”
           Jason hated having to rely on Rachel's connections in this country to enable him and his foster brother to board a ship bound for America. Hell, if his grandfather had not resorted to using Fox as a pawn, Jason would have been honor-bound to stay. Now all certainty about his future as an earl was in grave doubt. As to wedding Miss Fairchild, he had no doubts at all…or did he?
           Where the deuce did that come from! Pushing the horrifying notion to the very back of his mind, he turned to her and asked, “How soon do you believe I'll be able to free Fox and return him to America?”
           Rachel frowned in concentration. She had been considering further ramifications of their plan. In route to Harleigh Hall with Harry, it had become abundantly clear to her that merely foiling the plot to blackmail Jason into marriage would do nothing but postpone the inevitable. Her father would only find another candidate. No matter if she had two heads, with the size of the Harleigh inheritance, someone would agree to marry her; and it could be Forrestal.
           “It will take several months to work matters out,” she replied cautiously. She dared not reveal her thoughts until she had considered them very carefully. “You must pay social calls at the Hall. Act interested in crops and livestock management. Father will expect that of you, since you will have all the Cargrave properties to run as well as mine. “Oh, and when you discuss merging the estates, do not forget that I shall have to be included in the conversations,” she continued. “Father would be very suspicious if I were not, since I am the one who has run Harleigh for the past six years. There has been a movement gaining some support in Parliament for repeal of the tariffs on wheat…”
           Jason smiled as she chattered away,