Читать книгу A Less Than Perfect Lady - Elizabeth Beacon - Страница 2

He looked like every girl’s dream and their chaperons’ worst nightmare.

Even the blue coat, fawn breeches and top boots of a country gentleman did nothing to detract from the danger signaled by his sardonic mouth and fathomless dark eyes. Add in curling dark hair as black as a raven’s wing, and it was little wonder she had been momentarily dazed, she told herself.

She could envisage him on the quarterdeck of a privateer, or grimly determined as he charged into battle like a latter-day Achilles—but tamed by velvet and ermine and sitting in the House of Lords? Something told her he would hate such ceremonial splendor. The very thought of it made her smile as she came out of her reverie to greet the latest Earl of Carnwood.

“So the prodigal returns,” he remarked, with a smile that did little to soften his stern expression.

A Less Than Perfect Lady

Harlequin^®Historical