Ten Ways to Be Adored When Landing a Lord by Sarah MacLean Page A

from his chair and left, into the darkened corridor from which Isabel had come.
    Isabel assumed her brother’s seat, reaching for another biscuit herself. With a sigh, she looked to the young woman across the table and said, “Thank you for speaking with him about school.”
    “I am happy to. An earl needs a proper education, Lady Isabel.”
    “You know you may dispense with the formalities, Georgiana.”
    The other woman smiled. “On the contrary. I am your servant.”
    “Nonsense,” Isabel scoffed. “We both know you are of a higher rank than I. Please. It would make me feel better for you to call me Isabel.”
    A flicker of sadness passed in the girl’s gaze. “My rank is that of governess now. I am lucky to have such a valued position as that.”
    Isabel knew she was getting nowhere, and changed the course of the conversation. “Do you know the men who arrived today? ”
    Georgiana shook her head. “I was working on the afternoon’s lessons for James and did not hear that they had arrived until after you had shown them to the statuary.”
    “They are Londoners.”
    “Aristocracy? “ An edge crept into Georgiana’s tone.
    “Not entirely. Lord Nicholas St. John. Brother to the Marquess of Ralston—the antiquar—” Isabel stopped as Georgiana’s eyes widened to saucers. “Georgiana?”
    “Lord Nicholas and my brother—they are—acquainted.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I have not met him, but—”
    Of course they would know each other. One more thing that made the whole situation a challenge.
    “Georgiana.” Isabel’s voice was firm and smooth. “You will be all right. When I took you in, I told you that Minerva House would care for you, did I not?”
    The younger woman swallowed and took a deep breath.
    “Yes.”
    “Then care for you it shall,” Isabel said calmly. “We shall simply keep you well hidden. ‘Tis a large house. And you are James’s governess—there is little reason why a guest should see you.”
    “Why is he here? In Yorkshire?”
    “I do not know. I was led to believe that he was simply on a summer journey.” She paused, considering the girl’s fear. “You are safe under the protection of the Earl of Reddich.”
    As safe as any of us can be.
    Isabel rejected the small, contrary voice in her head.
    They were safe. She would make sure of it.
    Georgiana remained silent in the face of Isabel’s words. Eventually, she nodded once, placing her trust in Isabel—in the house.
    “Good.” Isabel poured more tea for them both, hoping to reinforce the girl’s calm before she added, “When you are ready to discuss your reasons for coming here, I am ready to hear them. You know that, do you not? ”
    Georgiana nodded again. “I do. I simply—I am not—What if—”
    “When and if you are ready, Georgiana, I shall be here.” Isabel’s words were simple and direct. She had years of experience coaxing young women out from their fear. Sisters of dukes or barmaids from Cheapside, girls were not that much different from one another.
    Not that different from her.
    If she had had another choice, she would never have allowed Lord Nicholas St. John into her house.
    But the threat of the other choice—of turning Georgiana, and the others, out into the world with nothing but the clothes on their backs—was unthinkable. And so Isabel was taking a calculated risk.
    Lord Nicholas.
    The irony was not lost on Isabel that she was placing the future of a houseful of women into the hands of one of the most dangerously compelling men she’d ever met. But as she looked at Georgiana, small and uncertain, both hands wrapped around her teacup, her gaze fixed on the liquid inside, Isabel knew that he was their best chance at success. Their best hope for a future.
    They would simply have to keep him confined to the statuary.
    That would not be so difficult.
    The next afternoon, Isabel was feeling exceedingly proud of herself.
    All her worrying about Lord Nicholas had been for