Read Online For the Earl's Pleasure by Anne Mallory - Free Book Online Page A

look at her in that way.
    Not that she needed Rainewood to do it.
    Something inside her mocked her own stupidity.
    Her maid’s slow but efficient motions in helping her undress meant that she touched Abigail as little as possible. It was designed that way, for unlike her mother who didn’t touch Abigail for specific reasons, her maid couldn’t bear to touch someone she felt was too worthy and revered to paw.
    Gift? No. Nothing about her life was giftlike.
    Finally she was down to her shift. Nearly naked. She hastily grabbed her nightgown from Telly and shrugged into it, getting bunched at her shoulders and hopping to the side just long enough to produce a deep chuckle from the direction of the bed. She righted herself and kept her chin firmly set.
    “Miss, would you like some warmed milk after you read?” Telly still looked as if she was pacifying a spooked horse.
    “Yes, that would be wonderful.”
    A bobbed head and softly closed door left her alone with one too attractive dead man and one crazy dead aunt who was still chattering to herself in the corner about the merits of Martin’s cha blend versus Gates’s hardy leaves.
    A quick look at Rainewood showed that he seemed much more relaxed. As if he too continued to think this was some strange dream and had therefore lost his prior urgency.
    “Why can I lie on the bed, walk on the floors, yet in Grayton House I fell through walls?” Rainewood poked a finger at the wall. It disappeared through the surface. He quickly pulled it back, then ran a hand over the coverlet.
    “The more time you are a ghost, the more you will recognize this reality as your own. You will no longer fall through things unless you mean to. You will feel their”—she waved her hands—“energy, I suppose. Or you will convince yourself that you do. I know not. I know only what I have observed.”
    “I have always wondered about your imaginings. Since this is my dream, I might as well inquire.”
    “It’s not a dream, Rainewood.”
    “Mmmmhmmm.” Dark eyes observed her beneath his perfect fringe. “So why do you only know what you have observed? Haven’t other imaginary dead people told you how your fantasies work?”
    “You’re an ass, Rainewood.” But she said it without heat.
    There was a strange calmness to the exchange. They hadn’t had a rational conversation in a long time. It spoke to the suspicion that he might truly think the whole thing unreal.
    She cocked her head, deciding to keep the keel even. “There are few that interact with me in this way, actually. Usually the spirits are much more self-contained and absorbed.” She thought of another spirit who had spoken to her in the way that Rainewood was able, but she held back from saying anything more. It would shatter any peace in the room.
    “I think you just complimented me.”
    “I wouldn’t dare.”
    He pulled a finger along the coverlet and just watched her with his dark eyes.
    She hesitated, letting the comfortable silence stretch for a moment more. “I’m going to give you some well-meaning advice.” She bit her lip. “Let go.”
    He raised a brow and his hand. “I’m not holding on.”
    “No, let go of any belief that you are still alive.”
    “I have to agree with that erstwhile suitor of yours—Farnswourth, was it?—quite morbid of you, Smart. I think I prefer to think myself alive, thank you.”
    “The more you let yourself go, the more your imprint will collect and the happier you will be. Some hang on very tightly if they have left something undone, but they eventually let go and disappear when their mission is complete. Quite happily let go, might I add.”
    “How lovely for them.”
    She frowned. “You don’t believe me.”
    “You don’t think?”
    She balled her fists but gamely continued. “Is there anything that you feel has been left undone?”
    He looked into the air and ticked off his fingers. “There is a bill in Parliament, a horse to buy at the derby, and my favorite boots