Dealing With Discipline (Domestic Discipline 2)

Still, it had all been rather wonderful even if she had to rush home now.

Unfortunately, just after pushing through a group of rather rowdy young men she ran straight into the poor man that was walking behind them. She thought it was unfortunate because he seemed like a very fine specimen of a man, even taller than Mr. Carter and with a harder body - she knew because it felt like she'd just smashed herself against a wall - and he was very handsome, but she didn't have time to make any kind of introduction or discover his direction. It also wasn't the kind of impression she wanted to make on a man as attractive as he was, but it couldn't be helped.

"Oh I'm so sorry, I beg your pardon!" she blurted out, before darting past him. Hopefully he wouldn't get a good enough look at her to remember her if they were to meet later; she'd rather he remember her as anything other than a rampaging harpy dashing through the street. Hurrying up the steps to the house she went immediately into the front door, hoping that Manfred might be in one of the other rooms doing whatever it was he did when he wasn't watching her with disapproving eyes and that no one else was in the foyer.

Unfortunately her hopes were in vain. Not only was Manfred standing in the center of the foray, there were several other servants running in and out of the room as well, including her maid Julie who looked to be rather teary-eyed. Cynthia glared at Manfred. If he'd been taking Julie to task over Cynthia's disappearance then she would have words with him. How could a maid be expected to keep tabs on her?

Manfred ignored her as the front door opened behind her again. Shockingly, something like relief flickered across his normally blank face.

"My Lord.... your ward has returned."

Oh dear. So not only was the Earl of Spencer certainly here, he knew she had been missing. Well, Cynthia had always been one to face up to her misdeeds without flinching. After all, they were almost always well worth whatever repercussions came from ignoring the word "don't."

Taking a deep breath for fortitude, she turned to face the Earl and gasped. It was the same man she'd bumped into outside! Now that she could get a better look at him she realized why she would have never expected him to be an Earl, he didn't at all look like one. Even though he'd been described as a rogue and a devil, she still expected him to look like the other rakes amongst the ton that she'd met. This man had tanned skin, like a laborer, and his brown hair was long and unruly, falling in waves down to the collar of his shirt. A shirt which was anything but pristine and his cravat was crooked too. Besides which, he wasn't even wearing a waistcoat! What kind of titled nobility went anywhere without a waistcoat?

She was so busy gaping at him that she missed seeing the amusement that flashed across his face.