Lord Harry's Folly by Catherine Coulter (good romance books to read TXT) 📗

his kind gaze to Lord Harry and lifted an elegant gray brow inquiringly.

Sir Harry said with a wide grin, “This gentleman is another Harry, George Lord Harry Monteith. He’s from up north where there’s nothing but cows and moors and byres. No society whatever, poor chap, but that’s changing now. I’ve taken him in hand.”

“An interesting thought. Ah, a pleasure my lord.” George bowed and unobtrusively snapped his fingers. A footman appeared in practically the same instant, and assisted the gentlemen out of their greatcoats.

“Kate never was a lazy sort. Is she up and about?”

George looked a trifle discomfited, Hetty thought, before he answered smoothly enough, “Yes, of course, Sir Harry. Her ladyship and lordship are in the library.”

“Excellent. You said you heard his lordship laugh? That’s good. Now, come on, Lord Harry, we don’t want to dawdle about all day. My brother-in-law doesn’t like it when I dawdle. He says it makes his bile rise.”

An embarrassed frown passed over George’s face. He called, “Don’t you want me to announce you, Sir Harry?”

“Don’t trouble yourself, George. I know my way well enough.”

The footman, Mackles, was grinning behind his white-gloved hand. George rounded on him. “Enough of your wicked loose-lipped grins, my lad. Off with you, his lordship wants this coat taken to Weston’s this very morning.”

“Damned elegant house, ain’t it?” Sir Harry asked, as they made their way down a long corridor. Hetty had no time to reply, for as they neared the library, they drew up in unison at the sound of angry voices.

“Damn you, Kate, I should thrash you to an inch of your life, then lock you in a convent. You little idiot, why didn’t you deign to tell me that”

“Don’t be stupid, Julien,” came an angry lady’s voice clearly through the closed door. “I’m some sort of fragile little miss who will fall apart just because of a little sport. You’re being altogether ridiculous acting just like a man and I won’t have it.”

“Damn you, I am a man.”

Sir Harry grinned at Lord Harry. “That’s my sister, you know. Quite a way with words, she has. She always has just the proper insults to drive Julien quite mad. She’s always making him furious, so furious in fact that he’s always kissing her and touching her. Odd that, and they’re married. Come on, let’s pull them apart.”

Hetty felt her unease grow and grabbed at Sir Harry’s sleeve. “Surely, Harry, this isn’t the time to broach the subject of my membership to his lordship. He sounds ready to kill.”

But Harry had already turned the knob to the library door and swung it open. Hetty stood rooted in the open doorway, blinking rapidly at the scene before her eyes.

A gentleman and lady stood facing each other across the expanse of a large oak desk. Of all things, the lady was dressed in tight-knitted men’s breeches and a white silk shirt. In her hand was a foil. She was young, very beautiful, her dark auburn hair flowing down her back, bound only by a narrow black ribbon. The young lady suddenly turned. “Harry.” She dropped her foil on the desktop and rushed forward. She threw her arms about Harry’s neck and hugged him hard. “Oh, my dear, it’s so good to see you again. She drew back, and Hetty saw her vivid green eyes were sparkling with pleasure. “How very smart you look, my dear, that waistcoat all those lovely yellow stripes, goodness. Oh” She drew to a halt and looked past her brother into Lord Harry’s embarrassed face.

“Now, Kate, don’t ruin my waistcoat, old girl. It is quite the thing, this waistcoat of mine. Every gentleman wants one. The tailors can’t make them fast enough, but I’m the first, don’t forget that. Ah, this is Lord Harry, a special friend of mine. My sister, Kate.”

There was no sign of discomfort on the countess’s face as she sent a dazzling smile to Lord Harry. “How very nice of you to visit, my lord. Julien, come away from the desk and say hello to your brother-in-law. Come, my dear, you haven’t seen him for a good seven weeks. Surely you’ve forgotten how he drank the best of your claret then got violently ill on the Aubusson carpet in the library, haven’t you? It isn’t just Harry, you know.”

Hetty saw that the earl of March didn’t take any offense at all. He straightened, smiled lazily at Harry and strode forward. “It’s good to see you again, Harry. Now, who is your friend here?”

“Lord Harry Monteith, Julien. You know, I wrote you about him yesterday. Dashed good fellow, and needs your backing for White’s.”

“I’m honored, my lord,” Hetty said formally, her voice as deep as she could make it, and bowed. She had the inescapable feeling that his lordship’s gray eyes saw straight through her coat, waistcoat, and shirt to her chemise. He was an extraordinarily handsome man, and as a woman, Hetty appreciated his smile in a way that Lord Harry couldn’t begin to.

“So you’re another Harry, eh?” the earl said with a smile, and pumped Hetty’s hand. He turned to Sir Harry. “As always, Harry, your timing is impeccable. Your sister and I were just having a rather heated discussion. It will be difficult, but if Kate agrees, we will turn the battleground back into a library.”

The countess lightly poked her husband’s arm, and said, “My dearest Harry, I’m becoming quite accomplished with the foil. And now, just because I’m breeding, Julien must play the possessive overbearing husband. Don’t you think it dreadful of him?”

“Breeding! That’s wonderful news, Julien, Kate. Oh my God, you’re breeding, Kate? You’re actually breeding and you’re still hopping about in boy’s clothes and fencing? I don’t believe it. Good Lord, you should be locked in a closet, for your own good.”

“No help for you from that quarter, Kate,” the earl said, his eyes resting upon his wife’s face. There was such tenderness in his gaze that Hetty felt suddenly like a chair in the middle of