To Con a Gentleman (Dalton Family 1)

She looked up and was startled to find him staring at her with a soft smile and lifted brow. “Alright, my dear. You have my attention.” Why did those words make her want to squirm? And why did she have to find the horrible man so blasted attractive? It was inconvenient and getting in the way. She would do well to picture him with long nose hairs and awful brown teeth.

Blast.

It didn’t work. Her rebellious mind instead took the time set aside for imaging the man as an ogre to notice instead that he had a very strong jawline and maybe even a dimple if he smiled fully. All of these observations only served to make the carriage feel smaller. Maybe the air beside the door would feel a little cooler. Rose scooted an inch to the right and then stopped short when her seat made an uncomfortable sort of noise. One that sounded far too much like a bodily function.

No, no, no, no, no.

Her eyes widened and flashed to the obnoxious earl who was clearly trying to school his amusement, his smile breaking through pursed lips.

She flushed for real this time. “Surely I do not need to tell you, my lord, that it was the seat that created that unfortunate noise?”

“Oh, certainly.” But he cleared his throat into his hand to cover up his chuckling.

She narrowed her eyes. “It was the seat,” she said enunciating every syllable and sounding more like a defensive child than a grown woman.

“Mmhmm.” The overblown look of agreement that he gave her made Rose want to dissolve into the carriage bench.

He didn’t believe her. Or was he simply teasing her? She crossed her hands over her torso and tipped a brow. “It was the seat. And I will make the noise again to prove my innocence.” Oh, no. Had she really just offered to recreate the sound of flatulence to remove his suspicions that she was an idiot? And why—oh, why?!—would the seat not make the sound again? How many times could she scoot back and forth on that seat before he thought her a madwoman and had her shipped off to bedlam?

Thoroughly put out with the now silent seat, Rose huffed and crossed her hands primly in her lap. She raised her eyes, reluctantly, to meet the earl’s. His eyebrows were lifted in a devilish grin. This job was going wonderfully.

If Rose ever wanted to see that two thousand pounds, she needed to regain some control. And quick. “Well, my lord. First, I’m not surprised that you do not remember me,” But you certainly will after this carriage ride. “It’s why I was nervous to come in the first place. You see…the night you—er…summoned me, you had been drinking rather heavily.”

He grimaced but his eyes danced. “That couldn’t have been very pleasant.” She fought to resist a smile. Probably because her sense of the ridiculous was already heightened from the seat noises. Certainly not because the awful man had wit.

“I’m not here to discuss the pleasantries of our encounter, Lord Newburry.”

“Then what are you here to discuss?” Was his face simply frozen into that lazy smirk?

“To speak plainly, my lord, I am here for compensation.”

He nodded. “Naturally.” Was he enjoying this?

After her idiotic attempt to recreate the embarrassing noise made when she scooted across the seat, Rose was struggling to maintain both her control and her dignity. She wanted to slap herself for being so bird-witted.

“As I said before, I have been released from my post due to this pregnancy without recommendation and I feel that it is only right to be compensated since I will very likely not be able to regain employment until after the child is born. If at all.” Was her language too polite? In all of her irritation, she had completely forgotten to resort back to the vulgar tongue. Apparently, there would be no end to her mistakes that day.

“Seems fair. How much compensation, my dear?”

“If you would be willing to give me enough money to live on, I wouldn’t trouble you again and no one would need to know that the child is yours.” Rose made sure to phrase it in such a way that he could hear the threat in her statement.

There. She had regained a little ground.

“And out of curiosity, just how much would it take for you to continue living?”

Again, she found herself biting her cheeks to keep from laughing. She was realizing that it was possible to both hate someone and find them funny at the same time.

“Two thousand pounds?” she unleashed her puppy eyes.

His eyebrows shot up and a low chuckle pushed through his broad chest. “Goodness, woman! Keeping you alive is not going to be cheap, is it? What if I just want to keep you barely breathing? Would that save me a thousand pounds or so?”

Her lips twitched, but she kept herself in hand. “Perhaps you might ask your butler what the going cost of living is, my Lord.”

“So she does have claws. I thought so.” His smile grew wide and somehow more handsome. Infuriating.

“Beg your pardon. That was impertinent,” said Rose, forcing herself to slip back into character. A maid would never have spoken so freely to an earl as she had a moment ago.

“No, don’t apologize,” he said, settling back comfortably in his seat. “I like you far better with a bit of pluck.”