Read Online Love With the Perfect Scoundrel by Sophia Nash - Free Book Online Page A

basin.
    “I shall leave you to your rest,” he said.
    “No.”
    He turned back from the doorway. “I beg your pardon?”
    “I said, no.”
    He returned to her bedside.
    “You didn’t answer my question.”
    “And which one was that, sweetheart?” He had a sinking feeling.
    “Why did you say all men are scoundrels?”
    Hell. “Sorry, Countess, I should’ve held my tongue.”
    “As long as it wasn’t about pity, I don’t really care what you meant.”
    “Pity?” He looked at her amazed. “Why would I pity you? Certainly, you’re hurt. But you’ll heal. And the snow will melt and you’ll be on your way soon enough.”
    She was scrutinizing his face as if she doubted his words. “I’m something of an expert at recognizing that expression. I saw little else in London. And when you looked at me before, I read it all over your face.”
    “And why is pity so very bad, sweetheart? There were some times in my life when I would have welcomed compassion.”
    “Well, I loathe it.” Her voice hissed with tamped-down emotion.
    He waited for her to continue.
    “I’ve found pity is always tinged with hidden glee in the other person’s misfortunes.”
    He raised a brow. “And what great misfortune have you suffered, Countess? Your husband’s death, is it? I find it hard to believe that anyone would be so cold-hearted as to take pleasure in that.”
    “No, of course not. But you have quite cleverly changed the subject, Mr. Ranier. We were talking about you, not me.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes. If you were not looking at me with pity then what was it?”
    “You know, if you cannot figure it out, Blue Eyes, I think it would be best for both of us if we just forget all about it.”
    “It’s all right, Mr. Ranier. You can tell me. I already know there is something about me that deters gentlemen when it comes to the point.” She had looked away from his face. “But actually, you would do me a great favor if you could explain it fully to me. I mean, as you said, the snow will soon melt and I will take my leave of you. And I doubt I’ll have such an opportunity again for brutal honesty, and a full assessment of my flaws.”
    What on earth? Her flaws? He looked at her exquisite profile for long moments, dumbstruck. He shook his head slowly, but knew without question that this bizarre query had come from somewhere far beyond the elegant countenance she presented to the world. She had forced the words into the air, exposing a great vulnerability. But it was just plain ludicrous…“Your faults, eh?” He scratched his jaw. “Well, darling, if you’re looking for brutal honesty, the only one I can see is perhaps, just perhaps, mind you, you could learn a thing or two about cooking.”
    She raised her eyes to his slowly. “Do not patronize me.” Her gaze held such pain he nearly fell back.
    “What happened to you, Countess? Who put the idea in that pretty head of yours that there was the slightest thing wrong with you? If it was the earl, I’d be happy to dig up his carcass and brand an S on his forehead for stupidity.”
    She gaped at him. “Do you know the Duke of Helston?”
    That was not what he was expecting. “Who in hell is he? Blacksmiths don’t exactly rub along with nobs. Is he the blackguard who put these ideas in your head?”
    “No, it’s just that the duke and his friends often like to describe inventive methods of torture.”
    “Now look who’s changing the subject,” he said after a long silence.
    She plucked at the twisted sheet. “Look, you don’t have to be kind. I just want your opinion. It would also help if you would give me a blunt perspective on the qualities gentlemen are most attracted to in a lady.”
    “How can I give you my perspective without knowing what we’re talking about?”
    She rolled her eyes. “You are worse than the Duke of Helston’s grandmother, and she’s something of an expert when it comes to evading questions.”
    “If you want an honest assessment,