Read Online Love and Other Scandals by Caroline Linden - Love and Other Scandals - Free Book Online

yours.” He drew out her package, still bound in the bookseller’s paper and string, and waggled it at her. “Don’t you want it?”
    His eyes had adjusted enough to see her jaw drop, gratifyingly. Finally, it seemed, he had rendered her speechless. “Did you open it?” she asked in a choked voice.
    “No, as you can see.” He picked at the string. “There’s still time, of course . . .”
    “Stop,” she said quickly. “Please don’t.” Tristan smiled. “But I can’t take it now,” she added. “Where would I put it?”
    For the first time he really looked at her gown. It was light blue, with a terrifying amount of lace bristling at her bosom. Even worse, the skirt stood out with no less than four full flounces at the hem. His gaze traveled up. The feather in her hair actually concealed a pearl tiara that surrounded a high, tight knot of braids. But most appalling of all was the profusion of ringlets curled at her temples. In the dim moonlight, it looked like she had a bunch of grapes at each temple.
    “Have you something against flattering fashion?” he asked.
    Her eyes all but ignited. “This is very fashionable!”
    “But not flattering on you,” he said bluntly. “Even a darker shade of blue would be better. You look like you’re wearing a half-opened umbrella.”
    “You insufferable . . . !” She drew back her fist. “Let me leave, or I shall punch you.”
    “Really?” He couldn’t help grinning at the thought. “I’ve never been punched by a—ow!” The last came out in a howl as her fist connected with his nose. Rather well, truth be told; Bennet must have taught her how to do it. “You struck me!”
    “And don’t think I won’t gladly do it again.” She darted by him and opened the door. “Good evening, Lord Boor—I mean, Lord Burke.”
    Still holding his smarting nose, Tristan could only watch her go in impotent shock. She had bested him and exited in triumph yet again. He ought not to have pushed her into this room, but he’d only meant to tease her a little and make her ask nicely for her package from the bookseller. Instead . . . instead he was going to have a swollen nose and he still hadn’t put the Fury in her place.
    Enough was enough. This meant war.

 
    Chapter 6

    J oan almost ran back to the ballroom, her heart galloping inside her chest and her lungs straining against her tighter-than-usual stays. Heaven help her if her mother discovered any part of that. Not only had she spoken to Tristan Burke, the Most Wicked Man in London in her mother’s eyes, but she’d punched him in the face. Although, now that she thought about it, Mother might approve that last part. Yes, she might well applaud her daughter fighting off the boorish attentions of a notorious rogue . . .
    Not that Joan wanted to put it to the test by telling her mother.
    At the ballroom door she slowed her steps, even though her pulse still thundered along, and tried to look proper and composed as she made her way back to her friends. Abigail Weston looked at her curiously as she rejoined them. “Where were you?”
    “The retiring room,” said Joan.
    “After that,” said Abigail, her eyebrows arching a little. “I went with you to the retiring room, but you left first and disappeared.”
    Joan cast a cautious glance around. They were as ignored and alone as ever, but she lowered her voice anyway. “I was waylaid.”
    Penelope, Abigail’s younger sister, gasped. “Really? By whom?” She seemed to have taken the wrong interpretation; her eyes were bright with interest.
    “An addlepated idiot.” From the corner of her eye, Joan saw the idiot himself appear in the doorway. From this distance, he was almost unbearably mesmerizing, his arms folded over his broad chest and his mouth set in a faint but wicked curve. As she peered at him over her shoulder, his green gaze suddenly connected with hers, as if he’d been searching for her. Chin defiantly high, she turned her back to him. “Lord