For the Earl's Pleasure (26 page)

“You will marry her.”

“You are mistaken.”

“I did not spend all of this time finding out the truth about that little wretch”—she pointed at Abigail—“just for you to disregard it and throw our lot away.”

The room went still. The dowager duchess seemed to realize that she’d made a mistake. She lifted her chin defiantly. “I did it for the good of the family. For the good of society.”

Valerian smiled dangerously. “If I hadn’t already made up my mind, you would have just made my decision easier. Thank you.”

The dowager looked confused. “So you aren’t going to keep her.”

“Oh, I fully intend to
keep
her and have her in my bed as soon as possible.”

Abigail’s cheeks went pink and the Duchess of Palmbury sputtered.

“Rainewood! How dare you say something so vulgar.”

“I know. Lovely isn’t it?”

“She is making you common!” The dowager pointed a gnarled finger at Abigail.

“She is making me human,” he said quietly. “And nothing you or anyone else in society says is going to make one whit of difference to my decision.”

“But Valerian,” Abigail whispered. “Everyone knows. I am ruined.”

“Really? Well, what is social power if you don’t exercise your right to control the masses every once in a while?” He lifted a brow and some of the sparkle that had been missing for years shone through. “Come, let’s have an adventure, Abby. But first, I have something to give you.”

He took her hand and led her to the stairs.

“Rainewood!”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“I won’t have that type of behavior under this roof!”

“I was merely going to give her something I’ve kept for a very long time, but you have filled my ill head with possibilities. It will be my pleasure to fulfill them. Thank you.”

“Rainewood!!!”

Valerian smiled devilishly and squeezed Abigail’s hand. Something about the smile loosened the last thread of worry from her heart and she squeezed back, hope filling her.

T
he glittering lights from the Landmarks’ ballroom shone up the stairs and through the doors as Abigail stepped forward in line to be introduced. The butler announced the group in front of them, a rowdy bunch who hadn’t even looked behind to see who was at their backs. If they had, they might have gawked a bit.

Abigail knew that half of the people inside were hoping she’d show. Hoping for the entertainment of the night. A chance to squash the interloper in their midst.

She stepped up to the top of the stairs and looked over the sea of eager, sharklike faces spreading below.

The butler looked at the card he had been handed and cleared his throat. “I believe there is a mistake.”

“No, no mistake,” a warm, deep voice intoned—just a trace of haughty coldness underlying the words, demanding obedience.

The butler shifted. “Very good, my lord.” He threw his shoulders back and opened his mouth. “Earl Rainewood and his intended, Miss Abigail Travers.”

Valerian smiled devilishly and stepped next to her, extending his arm. She placed hers through his, and he winked at her.

The last vestiges of nerves calmed. Seeping right through her pores as the security and love she saw in his eyes, a reflection of her own feelings, did what nothing else could. She touched the beautiful ivory comb in her hair, knowing that no matter what, things would work out. She believed that now.
Knew
it.

That even in the vat of sharks that lay below, she had a raft that would always hold her, and that she could support in return.

“Think of the adventure awaiting us.” He leaned so that his eyes were level with hers, his mouth sinfully close. “And even better the one that awaits when I sneak into your room tonight.”

“As if I will let you enter.”

“As if I would let you keep me away.”

She put her right foot upon the top step and smiled.

ANNE MALLORY
is a lifelong romance reader who sold her first novel to Avon Books after becoming a finalist in RWA’s Golden Heart contest.
For the Earl’s Pleasure
is her eighth book.

Aside from writing, she is an enthusiastic hobby collector, game player, water girl, cat lover, chocolate consumer and homebody—not necessarily in that order. A native Michigander, Anne currently lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Visit her online at
www.annemallory.com
. She loves hearing from readers, so feel free to drop her a line if you’re there!

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F
OR THE
E
ARL’S
P
LEASURE

T
HE
B
RIDE
P
RICE

T
HREE
N
IGHTS OF
S
IN

W
HAT
I
SABELLA
D
ESIRES

T
HE
E
ARL OF
H
ER
D
REAMS

T
HE
V
ISCOUNT’S
W
ICKED
W
AYS

D
ARING THE
D
UKE

M
ASQUERADING THE
M
ARQUESS

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

FOR THE EARL’S PLEASURE
. Copyright © 2009 by Anne Hearn. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Adobe Digital Edition May 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-188780-2

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