The Most Eligible Lord in London

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The Most Eligible Lord in London Page 1

by Ella Quinn




  ELIGIBLE FOR A KISS

  He escorted Adeline back the way she had come. “I must thank you for saving me. I . . . I do not wish to think about what could have happened. I should never have gone off with him, but he made me think he was actually interested in . . . Suffice it to say, I know better now.”

  Lord Littleton grinned. “Maximus and I would never allow any harm to come to you.”

  She glanced down. The Great Dane was at her side, and she ran a hand along his back. “Then I must thank both of you.” They had reached the turn before the path opened to the lawn when he stopped. “Is something wrong?”

  With one long finger he traced her jaw, causing butterflies to lodge in her chest. Then his lips brushed against hers once, twice, then settled briefly as his fingers stroked her cheek. “I never kissed Lady Dorie.”

  Adeline had not asked the question. She was not even sure she had thought about it, but if she had, she would have assumed that he had kissed her friend. Was that not what rakes did? “You didn’t?”

  One corner of his mouth tilted and brought out the dimple. “No.”

  “You should not kiss me either.” Yet her words were not nearly as firm as she wanted them to be. Suddenly, she didn’t know what to think. Her mind was so focused on the feeling in her lips, she couldn’t think . . .

  Books by Ella Quinn

  The Marriage Game

  THE SEDUCTION OF LADY PHOEBE

  THE SECRET LIFE OF MISS ANNA MARSH

  THE TEMPTATION OF LADY SERENA

  DESIRING LADY CARO

  ENTICING MISS EUGENIE VILLARET

  A KISS FOR LADY MARY

  LADY BERESFORD’S LOVER

  MISS FEATHERTON’S CHRISTMAS PRINCE

  THE MARQUIS SHE’S BEEN WAITING FOR

  The Worthingtons

  THREE WEEKS TO WED

  WHEN A MARQUIS CHOOSES A BRIDE

  IT STARTED WITH A KISS

  THE MARQUIS AND I

  YOU NEVER FORGET YOUR FIRST EARL

  BELIEVE IN ME

  The Lords of London

  THE MOST ELIGIBLE LORD IN LONDON

  Novellas

  MADELEINE’S CHRISTMAS WISH

  THE SECOND TIME AROUND

  I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  The MOST ELIGIBLE LORD In LONDON

  ELLA

  QUINN

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  ELIGIBLE FOR A KISS

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  AUTHOR’S NOTES

  The Seduction of Lady Phoebe Teaser

  Three Weeks to Wed Teaser

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2020 by Ella Quinn

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-4967-8

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4968-5 (eBook)

  ISBN-10: 1-4201-4968-7 (eBook)

  Chapter One

  Littleton House, Mayfair, London, 1818

  Frederick, Lord Littleton—Frits to his mother and grandmother—gave one final twitch to his cravat before allowing his valet to attach his pocket watch and quizzer. “Lord Turley is dining with me this evening.”

  “I shall inform the cook, my lord.”

  “You’d better tell my mother as well.” Frits took his hat and gloves. “She should arrive at any time now.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Ayles opened the door to the chamber and bowed. “We shall all be glad to have her ladyship in residence.”

  Frits refrained from answering. After the fine kettle of fish he’d made of things last Season, it wasn’t just his staff that would be pleased Mama was in Town. He should be the most eligible gentleman in London, but for his “mistake,” as she so delicately put it.

  His butler opened the door as he approached. It was time to face the ton in the most public forum possible. The Grand Strut.

  Nodding to his groom, he took the reins and swung up on his Friesian horse, Apollo. Never had Frits been so uncertain of his reception in the ton as he was today. Fortunately, he wouldn’t be alone for long. His friend Gavin, Viscount Turley, had promised to meet him at the Park. Frits’s hands grew damp in the gloves. He hadn’t been this nervous since his first day at Eton. Still, it was his own damned fault. Hopefully, no one would remember how badly he had behaved last year. And if they did, he would simply have to prove he’d learned his lesson.

  Entering the Park through Grosvenor Gate, he almost turned around and went home. But if he lost his nerve now, it would be worse later. Perhaps he’d be lucky, and the matchmaking mamas would ignore his past behavior in favor of all his good points, mainly his bloodline, wealth, and title. And there was a whole new group of young ladies making their come out this year who must be married off. Not that he was going to advertise his hopes of finding a wife this Season. That would be folly.

  Blast it all. Why had he decided to look for a wife in the first place? He should have just done what his father and every other Littleton had done for centuries: wait until he had to marry.

  Pulling himself together, he rode onto the carriageway. Within a few seconds, he found himself being genially greeted by four matrons in a landau. The tension eased out of his shoulders. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as he’d imagined.

  “Lord Littleton”—Lady Wall wiggled her fingers at him—“I am glad to find you in Town.”

  The lady
next to her raised interested blue eyes to his, gave him a come-hither look, and said, “I do not believe we have been introduced.”

  “Oh, my,” Lady Wall exclaimed. “It did not occur to me that you did not know his lordship. Allow me to make Lord Littleton known to you. My lord, this is Lady Holloway.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord.” Her generous lips rose in a smile.

  In the past, he would have immediately returned her look for one of his own and made an arrangement to meet in a more secluded place. But his hunting instinct didn’t press him the way it used to. Perhaps that was the reason he’d decided to wed. He bowed. “The pleasure is mine.”

  Lady Wall indicated the other two matrons in the carriage. “I trust you remember Lady Jersey and Lady Sefton?”

  “Naturally.” Frits bowed again, and they exchanged greetings. “Ladies, I hope I find you in good health.”

  “And you, my lord.” Lady Sefton inclined her head.

  As the landau moved forward, Frits scanned the verge. He saw the one lady he had not wished to see, Lady Dorie Calthorp—daughter of the Marquis of Huntingdon, and his mistake—strolling with four other ladies. He’d behaved badly toward her last Season. Though not on purpose. For too long, he thought they would be a good match. But the more he grew to know her and her strengths and desires for her life, the more he was convinced marrying her would be a horrible mistake. But instead of finding a way to tell her, he’d fled London and returned to Littlewood, his main estate. And now it was too late to attempt to explain his panic. If he’d even had the words.

  After taking a breath, he let it out slowly. He might as well get this over with. Frits just hoped she didn’t give him the cut direct.

  Riding over to the group, he gave her his friendly smile. “Lady Dorie, well-met.”

  The smile she returned was strained, and her eyes were hard. “Lord Littleton, I did not know you were in Town.”

  “I arrived yesterday.” If looks could kill, he’d be lying on the ground bleeding. “Have you been in Town long?”

  “Long enough.” Her words were clipped. She turned to the other ladies and made an elegant gesture toward him. “On the subject of gentlemen who appear eligible and are not, permit me to introduce to you Lord Littleton.” Damn and blast it. He fought to maintain his amiable countenance. She was obviously going to do her best to ensure he didn’t have an easy time finding a wife. “My lord, Lady Adeline Wivenly, Lady Augusta Vivers, Miss Featherton, and Miss Stern.”

  He forced a smile and made what he knew was a stylish bow. “Ladies, it is a pleasure to meet you. I hope you enjoy your time in the metropolis.” Miss Stern gave him a hard look. Had Lady Dorie already blackened his name to her friend? Lady Augusta was polite but unaffected, as if she did not care one way or the other if she met him. Miss Featherton had narrowed her eyes as if assessing his worth as a human being. That was disconcerting, but it ran in her family. He knew her older brother and sister.

  Then there was Lady Adeline. She just stared at him with considering, soft, gray eyes that shone like silver. Curls of gleaming, dark, honey-blond hair framed her face. She was utterly entrancing. Immediately, he wanted to know what she was thinking. As if she realized she should not continue to look at him, she dropped her gaze, and thick, brown lashes fluttered to her cheeks, drawing his attention to her straight, little nose and a light sprinkling of freckles. If only he’d met her in other company. Naturally, he could not help but notice her deep rose lips and the fact that her bottom lip was just a bit plumper than the top one. His gaze dropped lower, and he sucked in a breath. Even her demure spencer couldn’t hide the bounty beneath. He could have licked his lips at the thought of her in an evening gown. Here was a lady worth getting to know.

  Frits dragged his gaze back to Lady Dorie but was unable to maintain his smile in the face of her displeasure. Not that it mattered. He’d found out what he needed to. She wasn’t going to cut him. Although she’d stick a spoke in his wheel if she could. As reluctant as he was to leave Lady Adeline, it was time to depart. “I hope to see you as well, my lady.” He glanced at her friends, allowing his gaze to linger longer on Lady Adeline. “I look forward to seeing all of you again.”

  “I suppose that is unavoidable.” Lady Dorie dipped a slight curtsey. Not shallow enough to be insulting, but then again, her manners had always been impeccable. “Good day to you, my lord.”

  Touching his fingers to his hat, he made his escape as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself. As he rode around the carriageway, he was greeted warmly by other gentlemen and ladies. Apparently only Lady Dorie was holding his behavior against him. Then again, it had affected her the most. Hopefully, she would find another gentleman and if not forgive him, then forget him.

  He was halfway around the Park when Turley arrived. “Littleton, how have you been?”

  “Well enough.” Together, they turned and proceeded at a walk. “How is your sister?” The former Elizabeth Turley, now the Countess of Harrington, was with her husband in Paris. Frits had developed a tendre for her before she married. Not that he’d ever had a chance of gaining her affections. She was deeply in love with her husband. What had drawn him to her more than anything was that she had not been at all susceptible to him. The time they’d spent together had been for the sole purpose of bringing Harrington up to scratch. That she had no reaction to Frits at all had been a new experience for him.

  “Thriving.” Turley grinned. “She and Harrington now have a little girl. I’m heading over to France when the Season ends. You should join me.”

  “I keep thinking I will, but once I get back home, I can’t seem to leave.” In fact, Frits preferred Littlewood to almost anywhere else except a few of his other estates. Which was a bit of a problem when it came to marriage. Most ladies wanted more society than he liked. The endless round of house parties, or visiting Brighton, or even coming to London in autumn had never appealed to him, even though it meant he did not have to go without female companionship for any length of time. One of the most important things his father had told him was never to have liaisons with women near or on his estates. The bored matrons and widows of the ton knew the rules; others might not.

  His friend chuckled. “I firmly believe that if it wasn’t for the occasional vote in the Lords, you wouldn’t come to Town at all.”

  He couldn’t help but agree. “I probably would not. Nevertheless, it’s time I start my nursery, and this is the best place to do it. I’ve been to all the local assemblies and did not find a lady I could face over the breakfast table for the rest of my life.”

  Turley lost his smile. “Did you see Lady Dorie?”

  “I did.” Frits glanced at his friend. “She greeted me and introduced me to four other young ladies.” He pulled a face. “She described me as ‘a gentleman who seemed eligible but was not.’” Frits almost wished he hadn’t decided to lease the house he used for his indulgences. Yet, if he was serious about finding a wife—and he was—he could not continue to carry on as he had been. That would insult any lady he decided to court.

  “Ouch.” Turley grimaced. “That’s not going to help you.”

  Frits’s thoughts precisely. “I suppose it could have been worse.”

  Turley began walking his gelding, and Frits did the same. “The good news is that I’ve been here for a week and have not heard any talk about you and Lady Dorie. I think most of Polite Society has forgotten, if they cared at all. You were fairly circumspect.”

  He was glad to hear that bit of news. Yet, he hadn’t thought of his behavior as prudent. Neither had his mother. “My mother is arriving today. I am to be chaperoned this Season.”

  Turley shook his head and started to laugh. “It’s about time she took you in hand. You raise hopes without even trying.”

  Frits rolled his eyes to the sky. But he couldn’t argue that his friend was wrong. He’d always had problems with ladies thinking he cared more than he did. That was one of the reasons he did not often
attend entertainments where he might be introduced to young ladies. Last Season was the first time in years he’d done so, and look what happened. If only he hadn’t lost his nerve about telling Lady Dorie what he’d decided. He truly did hope she would soon find a gentleman who could make her happy. She was a fine woman, even if she wasn’t for him.

  He had to get over this guilt he was feeling. Maybe he should find a way to help her. On second thought, that probably was not a good idea.

  “Lord Turley and Lord Littleton,” Lady Bellamny hailed them, and Frits repressed a shudder. The lady was a terror. And she was accompanied by Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, another dragon. “I shall send you cards to my ball.” She lifted her lorgnette to her eyes. “And expect to see you there.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Yes, my lady.” They’d answered at the same time, sounding like schoolboys.

  She motioned for her driver to move on before they even had a chance to acknowledge the other woman.

  “Devil of a lady,” Turley said admiringly. “She scares me to death.”

  “I think she scares all unwed gentlemen of marriageable age to death.” She was always more than willing to help snare a man in the parson’s mousetrap.

  As they came to the gate leading onto Park Lane, Turley said, “After that, I’d like a drink. I’m going to Brooks’s. Would you like to join me?”

  “I might as well.” Frits had braved most of the ladies. Now it was time to discover if the gentlemen were as willing to accept him as their wives were.

  As they rode out of the Park, a familiar-looking, bright-green landau was making its way in. He trotted up to greet her. “Mama, when did you arrive?”

  “Frits, you look like you survived your first foray into Polite Society.” His mother smiled. “Shortly after you left. I decided to take a look around while my maid was unpacking. There is no time like the present to see and hear what has been going on.” She inclined her head to Turley. “It’s good to see you, Gavin. I expect to hear all about your sister at dinner this evening.” She fluttered her fingers at them. “I shall see you later.”

 

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