Read Online A Thoroughly Compromised Lady by Bronwyn Scott - Free Book Online Page B

was impossible to tell how honestly anyone had come by the items, but they were authentic. He could rest easy on that account. Dulci had not been misled into purchasing frauds. He stopped to eye a splendid lapis-lazuli-and-gold Egyptian collar. ‘These are very fine items, Dulci.’
    He studied a cabinet containing a set of bronze elephants with jewelled eyes. ‘From India?’
    Dulci moved to stand beside him. ‘From a ma ha rajah. An old friend brought them back for me a few years ago.’
    â€˜Is that wistfulness I hear?’ Jack asked, tossing her a sideways glance. ‘Would you like to go to India some day?’
    â€˜I’d like to go anywhere.’ Dulci ran an idle hand over a mask, tracing the contours. ‘India, Egypt, the Americas. There’s a big world out there—’ Dulci waved a hand ‘—and I’ve seen so very little of it.’
    A footman entered with the trays and Dulci crossed the room to direct the setting out of the tea and supper on a vacant table. Jack studied her as she gave instructions, her dark hair hanging in a thick braid down her back, the shapely curve of her hips in the tight fencing trousers she wore.
    A stab of jealousy went through him. He was an only child and had never acquired an appreciation for sharing. Had Gladstone seen her dressed thusly? Probably not, Jack reasoned. No man could see Dulci turned out in tight trousers and white shirt and blithely let her go. He could feel himself rising appreciatively at the provocative sight of her backside. On the other hand, maybe Gladstone, traditional bastard that he was, hadseen Dulci like this and promptly run the other way. Gladstone wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like Dulci.
    Jack knew. Whether or not that was a credit to him, however, was in dubious question. Dulci was a woman full of passion, a woman ready to burst with it. He recognised it in her smiles, in her blue eyes so full of life. It was there in her dares, those stupid dares that would bring her down sooner or later. She would not be careful for ever. One risk would be to go too far with the wrong sort of gentleman who would covet her joie de vivre . He would spare her that humiliation, that fall from grace if he could. But Dulci would not tolerate being reined in.
    She’d done an admirable job of fooling London society so far. He could hardly reconcile the perfectly coiffed Incomparable who took to the dance floor every night of the London Season with the energetic virago who’d bested him at fencing and took a serious interest in anthropology. He supposed it was something of a revelation to learn he wasn’t the only one who wore a mask. In that, he and Dulci were quite alike.
    The one thing that had become abundantly clear to him in the past few months since Christmas and intensely so in the past few days, was that he wanted her. Kissing her in the garden had only served to reignite his previous desire. He wanted all that energy, all that beauty, all that wit, in his bed. He knew too that it would have to be her choice, her understanding of what such an arrangement would mean and what it would not, both for her as well as for him.
    There were so many reasons not to pursue this mad passion any further; she was un touched and he hadnothing to offer—nothing he would or could offer. This decision would cost her far more than it would cost him. It would not impede his chances to marry—not that he had any plans in that direction—but it would impede hers should she ever change her mind and accept some erstwhile suitor in the future. But the body defied logic. Such reasons did nothing to staunch his desire.
    The supper things were settled at last to Dulci’s satisfaction and Jack took a seat on the sofa across from her, picking up the thread of their interrupted conversation. ‘If you want to travel, why don’t you?’ Jack reached for a plate of cold meats and bread.
    Dulci