Read Online A Lady’s Lesson in Scandal by Meredith Duran - Free Book Online

myself home, but I’ll go with a smile.”
    “You didn’t like the chocolate?” The darkness edged his voice now, too. Something had displeased him. She wouldn’t bother to guess at what.
    She lifted her chin. “No, I didn’t.” The chocolate tasted of heaven and if she finished it, she’d memorize that taste and then spend the rest of her life hungering for more. She didn’t like wanting what she couldn’t have, but she couldn’t want what she didn’t know about.
    Which was why, she thought as she rose, it was best to be leaving as soon as possible. She just needed to get him out of the room a minute so she could collect her—well, more accurately
his
—things. “I’ll be going,” she said, “after a quick”—she cleared her throat—”visit with a chamber pot.”
    He stood as well. “Certainly. But before you go, I hope you’ll permit me the chance to show you the house.”
    He spoke as courteously as though he were dealing with a lady of his own kind. It got annoying, after a while, since it was so clearly a show. “I can tell you exactly what your house looks like,” she said. “I broke into it last night, and I’ll warn you, the lock on your garden gate is as shoddy as cheap tin. The rest seemednice enough to feed a few counties for the summer, and that’s all there is to it.”
    He nodded. “One thing, then. I’d like to show you one thing before you go.”
    She hoped it wasn’t a weapon. “You’re not one of those
dangerous
lunatics, like?”
    His mouth quirked as though he were biting back a smile. “I do hope not. If I returned your knife to you, would you feel safer?”
    “And the gun,” she said promptly. She needed to get that back to Brennan.
    But no: “I’ll save the pistol for your next visit,” he said and turned on his heel. “Two minutes, Nell. I’ll be waiting outside.”
    He shut the door behind him. She raced back to the mattress and hauled out the lace. By an inch, the book didn’t fit in the inner pocket of her jacket, the candlesticks, either. Bloody hell. She put them back in their proper places and turned on her heel to snatch the linen napkin from the table—and the fork and knife, too; they felt heavy enough to be silver. A precious minute was wasted as she tested the knife on the embroidered stool, but the cloth proved too thick to cut.
    The tour of the house: she’d be able to snatch up a few things along the way. Stuffing the cutlery into her pocket, she hurried out into the hall.
    He was standing a few paces down the way, idly examining a stone bust of some ugly, big-nosed man in a wig. “Looks just like you,” she said as she caught up to him.
    “You’re very kind,” he said dryly, walking onward.
    After a brief hesitation, she followed. He moved smoothly as a tomcat, a sort of easy prowl, his hands in his pockets, the most glossy, expensive gentlemanshe’d ever seen in the flesh. Somebody should take
his
photograph. He’d certainly sell well to the ladies.
    He glanced over his shoulder and caught her staring. She scowled and looked away—then peered harder around her.
    For all her bluster, she’d been too panicked last night to absorb her surroundings in detail. The corridor was just … infamously nice. The wood paneling had a carved trim. The carpet was a fine weave of gold flowers on a background of auburn and navy. Brass sconces gleamed. The air held a mix of waxes and lemony balms, and it smelled more than clean; it smelled like something you’d want to buy, a scent to lull you to sleep on nights when worries had you tossing.
    No wonder he walked so lazily. Probably he’d never known a moment’s worry.
    To her irritation, she saw nothing small enough to be pocketed. “What’s this thing you want to show me?”
    “A letter or two.”
    “A letter?” She slanted him a glance. “I’d hoped for something a touch more exciting.” Or valuable.
    He shrugged. “You’ll find them interesting.”
    “I doubt it.”
    He came to a