How to Entice an Earl by Manda Collins Page A

to see Lady Emily standing in the doorway, watching them.
    “Before Fielding died he was never inclined to drink to excess,” she said, a sad smile lighting her beautiful features. “He can be really quite lovely when he isn’t in his cups.”
    Since Christian had been in the army then, he had no firsthand knowledge of Viscount Linton’s behavior when he was younger.
    “I hope that he will find a way to limit himself, then,” he said to Lady Emily. “For his friends’ sake, as well as his family’s.”
    She nodded, then excused herself to climb into her own waiting carriage, leaving Christian to stare out into the night.

 
     
    Seven
     
    Despite a fitful night of dreams of Maddie in varying degrees of both undress and arousal, Christian awoke at a reasonably early hour the next morning. His years in the military had instilled in him a healthy respect for early rising, no matter what might keep him from his rest.
    His first destination after breakfast was Lady Emily Fielding’s town house. He might be wrong, but her interaction—or lack thereof—with Linton last night had hinted to him of a much more intimate friendship between them. He needed to speak to Linton today if at all possible. And he wished to avoid running the fellow to earth in his parents’ home. There was far too much likelihood that Maddie would stumble upon their discussion and he wished to protect her from the matter if at all possible.
    His brisk knock at Lady Emily’s door was greeted by a dour butler who did not seem at all pleased to see him.
    “Good day,” Christian said, offering his card. “I was wondering if I might have a word with either Lady Emily or Viscount Linton.”
    The retainer’s nose pinched in disapproval. “I don’t know to whom you are referring, my lord. This is the home of Lady Emily F—”
    He was interrupted by a voice behind him.
    “Don’t be a stiff neck, Marsden,” Lady Emily said from the landing above. “Let Gresham come in for a cup of tea and I shall see if our guest is receiving callers today.”
    With eyes that warned Christian not to get too comfortable, Marsden led him to a small but cozy sitting room that faced Half Moon Street. They exchanged meaningless pleasantries while waiting for the tea tray, which arrived soon enough. He’d just begun to sip his tea when Viscount Linton, his eyes bloodshot and his skin an unhealthy shade, entered the room as if the air were made of chain mail.
    Without ceremony, Linton, his blond hair matted on one side, collapsed into a comfortable chair before the fire and asked Marsden, who hovered close behind, to bring him coffee.
    “I hope you have good reason to raise me from bed at this hour, Gresham,” Maddie’s brother said, looking like death. “I’ve the devil’s own headache this morning and I don’t take kindly to being roused here at the home of my…”—he paused—“friend.”
    “I don’t doubt it, Linton,” Christian said, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees. “You were quite foxed last night as I recall.”
    “I don’t remember seeing you,” Linton said with a frown. Christian wasn’t all that surprised considering the amount of brandy he suspected the other man had consumed. “And how did you know I was here, anyway? We are discreet, damn it.”
    This last he said with the injured air of a young lad defending his honor.
    “I was there, nonetheless,” Christian said. “As for how I found you here, it was a lucky guess. There have been whispers, you know. It’s impossible to keep anything entirely secret in this town.”
    Linton rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I am fully aware of it,” he said dolefully. “Doesn’t matter how quiet I try to keep things, the pater always has a way of winkling out the truth.”
    Shaking his head at the other man’s foolishness, Christian decided to get to the point. But before he could speak, Linton went on. “I suppose you’re here about that business with