Read Online How the Scoundrel Seduces by Sabrina Jeffries - Free Book Online
Authors: Sabrina Jeffries
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armor. He wouldn’t have to look hard. Lately, her armor was flimsier than muslin.
Then he shoved away from the desk. “You do realize you don’t have to pursue this at all. You could just go on with your life and hope no one ever learns of this.”
“But what if someone did? If I am a Gypsy, then my Gypsy mother, at the very least, knows where I am and who I am. What’s to stop her—or someone in her family—from trying to blackmail me once I inherit the title and my fortune? And if word got back to my cousin, he would surely fight to gain the title and the estate and disinherit me. That would be disastrous.”
“Because of the scandal?” he said cynically. “Or because you’d lose all that lovely money and high rank?”
“Neither, you dratted—” She caught herself when she saw the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. He was deliberately provoking her. Again. She moderated her tone. “Hundreds of people depend upon Winborough for their livelihood, and I take my responsibilities to them very seriously. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you? You live for yourself alone.”
“Yes, thank God,” he said, though a telltale tighteningabout his lips belied his seeming nonchalance. “I wouldn’t have your meddlesome duties for all the money in England.”
“My cousin might very well feel the same. He’s an artist, accustomed to catering only to his muse, not to the needs of tenants and servants. And Winborough can ill afford an owner who will let it fall into disrepair while he’s off painting pictures of trees.”
“You’re not an art lover, I take it,” he said sarcastically.
“I like art well enough in its place, but there are more important matters to deal with on a large estate. That’s why it’s imperative that I marry Mr. Keane if I prove not to be the legitimate heir. Papa isn’t exactly young, so I can’t take the chance of my cousin inheriting everything in his own right before we can make sure he could handle it.”
“Fine. Then marry him.” His expression was impassive. “Even if you do turn out to be your parents’ daughter, you still have to marry in order to produce the requisite heir. Personally, I think you ought to do as you please and take your chances, but if you insist on saving the family estate, you might as well marry him as anyone else. Assuming that you can stomach him, that is.”
Men could be so obtuse. “There’s more to love than that.”
He snorted. “Who said anything about love? Marriage, especially in your world, is about two things: gaining or securing property, and satisfying one’s desires.You already know what you have to do to secure your property. Now you need only determine whether you can desire your cousin and he desire you.”
“Yes, and what if he doesn’t? What then?”
He swept her with a long, heated glance. “Then he’s blind and stupid, and you won’t wish to marry him anyway.”
When the offhand compliment sent her silly pulse into a scamper, she chided it silently. Mr. Bonnaud was well known for his blithe flatteries. He didn’t mean anything by them. “All right, what if he desires me but I don’t like him ?”
“Liking has nothing to do with desire.” He walked to the door. “Trust me, you’ll know within seconds of meeting him whether you desire him. Although if your cousin has any talent at all with women, he can make you desire him.”
“How ludicrous.” She couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation. It was most . . . inappropriate. Yet she didn’t want to stop it, either. “I could never desire someone I just met, no matter what he did to coax me into it. And I certainly could never desire someone I didn’t like.”
“You think not, do you?” He shut the door, then came toward her.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked, alarmed by the determination in his eyes.
He stopped mere inches away, his gaze dropping to her mouth. When she swallowed beneath the force of his penetrating
Then he shoved away from the desk. “You do realize you don’t have to pursue this at all. You could just go on with your life and hope no one ever learns of this.”
“But what if someone did? If I am a Gypsy, then my Gypsy mother, at the very least, knows where I am and who I am. What’s to stop her—or someone in her family—from trying to blackmail me once I inherit the title and my fortune? And if word got back to my cousin, he would surely fight to gain the title and the estate and disinherit me. That would be disastrous.”
“Because of the scandal?” he said cynically. “Or because you’d lose all that lovely money and high rank?”
“Neither, you dratted—” She caught herself when she saw the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. He was deliberately provoking her. Again. She moderated her tone. “Hundreds of people depend upon Winborough for their livelihood, and I take my responsibilities to them very seriously. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you? You live for yourself alone.”
“Yes, thank God,” he said, though a telltale tighteningabout his lips belied his seeming nonchalance. “I wouldn’t have your meddlesome duties for all the money in England.”
“My cousin might very well feel the same. He’s an artist, accustomed to catering only to his muse, not to the needs of tenants and servants. And Winborough can ill afford an owner who will let it fall into disrepair while he’s off painting pictures of trees.”
“You’re not an art lover, I take it,” he said sarcastically.
“I like art well enough in its place, but there are more important matters to deal with on a large estate. That’s why it’s imperative that I marry Mr. Keane if I prove not to be the legitimate heir. Papa isn’t exactly young, so I can’t take the chance of my cousin inheriting everything in his own right before we can make sure he could handle it.”
“Fine. Then marry him.” His expression was impassive. “Even if you do turn out to be your parents’ daughter, you still have to marry in order to produce the requisite heir. Personally, I think you ought to do as you please and take your chances, but if you insist on saving the family estate, you might as well marry him as anyone else. Assuming that you can stomach him, that is.”
Men could be so obtuse. “There’s more to love than that.”
He snorted. “Who said anything about love? Marriage, especially in your world, is about two things: gaining or securing property, and satisfying one’s desires.You already know what you have to do to secure your property. Now you need only determine whether you can desire your cousin and he desire you.”
“Yes, and what if he doesn’t? What then?”
He swept her with a long, heated glance. “Then he’s blind and stupid, and you won’t wish to marry him anyway.”
When the offhand compliment sent her silly pulse into a scamper, she chided it silently. Mr. Bonnaud was well known for his blithe flatteries. He didn’t mean anything by them. “All right, what if he desires me but I don’t like him ?”
“Liking has nothing to do with desire.” He walked to the door. “Trust me, you’ll know within seconds of meeting him whether you desire him. Although if your cousin has any talent at all with women, he can make you desire him.”
“How ludicrous.” She couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation. It was most . . . inappropriate. Yet she didn’t want to stop it, either. “I could never desire someone I just met, no matter what he did to coax me into it. And I certainly could never desire someone I didn’t like.”
“You think not, do you?” He shut the door, then came toward her.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked, alarmed by the determination in his eyes.
He stopped mere inches away, his gaze dropping to her mouth. When she swallowed beneath the force of his penetrating
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