Engaging the Earl. Mandy Goff

letter said to come immediately. It sounded … frantic.”

      â€œI think you probably read too much into my request,” Olivia said with a shrug.

      â€œWhen your request contains the word urgently, I don’t really have to read into it much.”

      â€œWe’re not here to discuss your overly active paranoia,” his sister returned. “Besides, I’m in no mood to argue with you. I need your help,” Olivia said, taking a seat and offering to ring for tea.

      After declining the tea service, Marcus relocated to a chair, curious to hear about Olivia’s problem … hopefully, it would distract him from his own. Whatever was wrong with his sister was consuming enough that she had yet to ask him about the injury to his eye.

      Not that he minded that omission from the conversation, of course. Olivia would be much too amused by the story. Not to mention when Nick—her husband and Marcus’s best friend—found out, Marcus would be lucky if he ever lived down the humiliation.

      â€œWhat do you need my help with?”

      He was pleased Olivia had come to him for assistance. Since she’d married, she hadn’t seemed to need her older brother anymore. And as someone who had spent his entire adult life caring for his sister, the sudden change after her marriage made Marcus feel a little bereft.

      â€œI’ve a made a list,” Olivia said, digging in the pocket of her skirts and finally producing a folded-up slip of paper.

      â€œA list?” he echoed, taking and unfolding the paper so he could read it.

      His sister sat quietly while he scanned down the rather long collection of names.

      â€œWhat’s this?” he asked finally.

      â€œA list.”

      Marcus barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, I think I have a fairly good understanding of what constitutes a list. But all I see on here are names. Would it be too much to ask what the significance of them would be?”

      â€œThose men,” Olivia continued, pointing to the paper, “are eligible bachelors.”

      Marcus stared at her, waiting for further explanation.

      â€œThey’re for a friend.”

      â€œA friend?” Skepticism oozed in his voice.

      Olivia sighed. “It’s a complicated matter, Marcus. And I’m going to need your assistance and discretion. So I’d appreciate it if you would at least try not to be difficult.”

      â€œI hardly think my trying to make sense of your inadequate explanations should classify as being difficult.”

      Olivia sighed. “I have a friend who needs a husband.”

      Marcus’s cravat tightened, and his mouth was suddenly so parched he wished he’d accepted the tea. He couldn’t dismiss the suspicion that Olivia had more of his involvement in mind than just being a keeper of the list.

      Clearing his throat, he scrambled for an easy way to break it to her that he wasn’t going to be eligible bachelor number one. “Olivia … you understand I have quite a bit to focus on right now …” he began, “and I’m not in any place to be considering taking a wife—”

      Olivia rolled her eyes. “Do you see your name on the list, Marcus?”

      â€œWell … no … but—”

      She waved her hand as though to shut him up. “Then stop being dramatic. I certainly wouldn’t have put you there.”

      â€œAnd why’s that?” Marcus asked before he could consider the advisability of voicing such a question.

      This earned him another look. “I doubt my friend would have you,” she said breezily.

      â€œI’m considered a fairly decent catch by most of the matchmaking mamas.” Marcus couldn’t believe himself or the words coming out of his mouth.

      â€œShe seems to think a scholarly gentleman will suit her.”

      â€œI was at the top of my class at Oxford.” Clearly he was out of his mind.

      Olivia only stared at him.

      â€œFine. I’m not on the list … not that I want to be,” he added just in case he hadn’t been clear on that. “So, since I’m not worthy to be there, would you mind telling me what you think I’m going to do with it?”

      â€œYou know the gentlemen on that list, right?” she asked.

      Marcus nodded.

      â€œHow difficult would it be for you to arrange to bring some of them by here to meet my friend while she’s staying with me?” Olivia picked at an invisible piece of something on the skirt of her dress as she asked the question.

      He wasn’t going to refuse her. There was little he could refuse his sister. But that didn’t mean Marcus planned to give in easily.

      â€œYou want me to round up the men and parade them through the house like a Tattersalls auction?” he asked.

      Olivia rolled her eyes. “I don’t want them all here at the same time, Marcus. It would make much better sense for you to bring them by individually.”

      He gaped. “There are at least thirty names here.”

      â€œI don’t want Emma to have to settle,” she said as though he were a barbarian for suggesting otherwise.

      Emma.

      So that was the mysterious friend’s name. He liked it, Marcus decided. Not that it mattered what he thought of the name or even the woman herself. Supposedly, they wouldn’t suit.

      â€œSuppose I decide to help,” he said finally. “Why exactly would I be doing it again?”

      Olivia sobered. As she leaned forward, Marcus saw the concern lurking behind the humor in her eyes. “Emma really needs a husband, Marcus. I want to help—and I told her that you would be happy to, as well. You do want to help, don’t you?”

      â€œA damsel in distress?” he muttered.

      Olivia nodded, without any trace of irony.

      With that, he was sunk—and he could tell Olivia knew it. But before he could say anything, there was a gentle tap at the door.

      â€œCome in,” his sister called out, and Marcus could hear the door behind him open.

      â€œOh, I’m sorry,” a woman—Emma?—said. “I didn’t realize you had company.” Her voice was pleasant, Marcus noted. Low and sweet, and … oddly familiar.

      â€œNo, Emma,” Olivia said, motioning her forward. “You’re fine. Please come sit with us. Marcus and I were just talking about you.” The woman crossed around the room to take a seat beside Olivia, giving Marcus his first look at her. It was a struggle not to let his shock show.

      Damsel in distress, indeed, he thought to himself, as he stared at the governess from Cheapside.

      So this is Emma. He looked down at the list of names in his hand and frowned. He hadn’t liked being left off the list even before he knew for whom it was intended.

      For some reason, he liked it even less now.

      Chapter Three

      â€œMaybe