Lady Alexandra's Lover (Sex and the Season #3) - Helen Hardt Page 0,2
I don’t believe any old crone knows anything,” Sophie said. “But even if she does, what makes you think she’s talking about Mr. Landon?”
“Who else in the world could she be talking about?”
Sophie sighed. “I’m sorry. I won’t take part in your scheme. I cannot, in good conscience.”
Her sister’s reaction didn’t surprise Ally in the least. But no worry. She’d simply go to London on her own, find someone else to help her, and seduce Mr. Landon into taking her to bed. How difficult could it be?
She turned toward the parlor door when it opened.
“My ladies,” Graves said, “dinner is served.”
“Thank you, Graves.” Sophie stood. “Will Lord Evan be joining us?”
“Yes, my lady. He returned a little less than an hour past.”
“Lovely,” Sophie said.
Yes, lovely. That was all Ally needed—her stuffy new stepbrother hindering her every movement. Well, she was going to London, no matter what he had to say about it.
Ally took her place at the small table in the informal dining room. Taking meals with only her sister and her new stepbrother for the past month had become tedious. Sophie hardly said a word unless Ally or Evan engaged her, and Evan rarely engaged either one of them. He still wasn’t quite comfortable with their parents’ marriage, and he made no secret of it.
When Evan entered, Ally’s heart lurched. She couldn’t help it. As much as he tried her patience, he was a beautiful man. A former oarsman at school, he was big and muscular, with blondish hair and warm brown eyes. His high cheekbones, slender nose, and broad jawline formed near masculine perfection. He resembled his father, and Ally had no trouble imagining her mother being swept away by the earl twenty years ago, even though she’d been married at the time. Married, of course, to the girls’ tyrant of a father who’d abused all three of them and left them penniless due to his negligence and reckless spending.
“Good evening, Sophie, Alexandra,” Evan said, taking his seat at the head of the table.
“Good evening, E-Evan.” Sophie blushed.
Ally couldn’t help smiling. Sophie still had issue with using Evan’s Christian name. Always true to convention, her sister. Timid and shy to a fault, Sophie often stammered around new people—though Evan was hardly new in their lives. Before their parents had married a month ago, he’d been courting their cousin Lady Rose Jameson. But Rose had loved another and was now married to Cameron Price-Adams, the Earl of Thornton and heir to a marquessate.
“Yes, good evening,” Ally said.
“I trust your day passed pleasantly,” Evan said.
“Yes, of course. And yours?” Ally asked.
“Pleasant indeed.”
Of all the insufferable small talk! As if he gave a care about their day. About as much as she cared about his.
“I’m going to London.” There. That would get his attention.
Evan looked up from his soup. “I beg pardon?”
“Ally…” Sophie began.
“I said I’m going to London. I have a dear friend whom I would like to visit, and she is excited to receive me.”
Evan cleared his throat. “And who is this friend, might I ask?”
Ally smiled, thinking quickly. “Miss…Prudence…Spofford. She is expecting my visit. I’ll be leaving on the morrow.”
Evan looked to Sophie. “And I suppose you will go with her?”
Sophie shook her head. “No, my lor— er, Evan. I have no plans to accompany her.”
“Then I’m afraid it’s out of the question. You cannot travel alone.”
“Nonsense. I’m twenty-one years old. The coachman will be with me. He will see me safely to the rail. And Prudence is expecting me.”
“No,” Evan said flatly.
“No?” Alexandra raised her eyebrows.
“You heard me. No.”
“Since when do you have authority over me?”
“Since my father and your mother left you under my protection. You’re my responsibility while they’re gone, and I won’t have you gallivanting all over London unchaperoned.”
“I’m of age, Evan. I can go to London if I want. And I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Ally,” Sophie said, “I do wish you would reconsider. The railway is still new. Perhaps traveling by coach would be safer.”
“No,” Evan said.
“You don’t trust our coachmen?” Ally asked.
“Yes, yes, of course I trust our coachmen.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“I don’t trust you.” He pushed away his plate and stood, summoning a footman. “I’m no longer hungry. Please clear my place.”
Ally’s skin tightened. How dare he? “You don’t even know me. How can you possibly say you don’t trust me?”
Evan closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them. “Forgive me. I misspoke. I have no reason not to trust you. However, you may not go to London unaccompanied.”