Read Online Someone to Watch Over Me by Lisa Kleypas - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lisa Kleypas
Ads: Link
roof a time or two.”
“Did you strike her?”
“Never,” Gerard said instantly, seeming offended. “I’ll admit, I was tempted to choke the life out of her. But I would never do harm to a woman. And in spite of my anger, I would have taken Vivien back if she had desired it, my pride be damned.”
Grant’s brows pulled together at the statement. In his opinion, no woman was worth the sacrifice of a man’s pride, no matter how attractive she might have been. There was always another pretty face, another well-shaped body, another display of feminine charms that would soon blot out the memories.
“I can see what you’re thinking,” Gerard said. “But there’s something you don’t understand…Vivien is one of a kind. The smell, the taste, the feel of her…No one could compare. There was nothing she wouldn’t do in bed. Have you ever slept with a woman who has no shame? If I could have just one more night with her…even one hour…” He shook his head with a mumbled curse.
“All right, my lord,” Grant said tersely. “We’re finished for now. As my investigation proceeds, I may have more questions for you.” He stood and headed for the door, but paused as he heard Gerard’s pleading voice.
“Morgan, you must tell me…What has happened to her?”
Grant turned to glance at him curiously. “If she were dead,” he said slowly, “would you mourn her?” He waited a long time for the other man to reply, but Gerard apparently found it difficult to answer.
Grant smiled cynically. Gerard was like a child deprived of his favorite toy—he would miss the sexual pleasure Vivien had given him, but he felt no genuine caring or concern. Some courtesans and their protectors genuinely loved each other, had relationships that lasted for decades. Grant knewmore than one man who had escaped the bitter disappointment of his arranged marriage by taking a mistress who would bear him children and serve him as the loving companion his wife should have been. For Vivien, however, the role of courtesan was played purely for reasons of business and profit.
“Do you have a set of keys to her town house?” Grant asked Gerard.
The question clearly nonplussed him. “I suppose I might. Do you intend to search her possessions? What do you expect to find?”
“Where Miss Duvall is concerned, I’m learning not to expect anything,” Grant replied dourly, while curiosity and an odd touch of dread tangled inside him at the prospect of visiting her town house. The more he discovered about Vivien and her sordid past, the darker his mood became.
Four
G rant deftly unlocked the bronzed door of Vivien’s town house, one of many located behind the palace front of east Grosvenor Square. The prestigious address, with its spectacular row of columns and arched doorways, must have cost a pretty penny. A further testament to Vivien’s skill at her profession, he thought darkly.
The interior was dim and quiet, with a faint mustiness in the air from being closed up for weeks. Grant lit a lamp and a pair of wall sconces, which shed a bright glow on walls covered in hand-painted wallpaper. Taking the lamp in hand, he wandered through the first-floor rooms. The house was elegant and decidedly feminine, with abundant frescoes of pastel flowers, walls covered in French paper, delicate furniture with spindlylegs, and large framed looking glasses over every fireplace.
He ascended the stairs, noting the costly twisted balusters with carved tread ends, and the lamps housed in crystal cases. It seemed no expense had been spared in decorating the place to Vivien’s satisfaction. Upstairs, the air seemed to hold a hint of stale perfume. He followed the scent to the main bedroom, lit more lamps, and surveyed his surroundings intently.
The walls were covered in emerald-green silk, a jewel tone that was echoed in the rich Brussels floral-patterned carpet underfoot. Although the current fashion for ladies’ bedrooms was to half conceal the bed
“Did you strike her?”
“Never,” Gerard said instantly, seeming offended. “I’ll admit, I was tempted to choke the life out of her. But I would never do harm to a woman. And in spite of my anger, I would have taken Vivien back if she had desired it, my pride be damned.”
Grant’s brows pulled together at the statement. In his opinion, no woman was worth the sacrifice of a man’s pride, no matter how attractive she might have been. There was always another pretty face, another well-shaped body, another display of feminine charms that would soon blot out the memories.
“I can see what you’re thinking,” Gerard said. “But there’s something you don’t understand…Vivien is one of a kind. The smell, the taste, the feel of her…No one could compare. There was nothing she wouldn’t do in bed. Have you ever slept with a woman who has no shame? If I could have just one more night with her…even one hour…” He shook his head with a mumbled curse.
“All right, my lord,” Grant said tersely. “We’re finished for now. As my investigation proceeds, I may have more questions for you.” He stood and headed for the door, but paused as he heard Gerard’s pleading voice.
“Morgan, you must tell me…What has happened to her?”
Grant turned to glance at him curiously. “If she were dead,” he said slowly, “would you mourn her?” He waited a long time for the other man to reply, but Gerard apparently found it difficult to answer.
Grant smiled cynically. Gerard was like a child deprived of his favorite toy—he would miss the sexual pleasure Vivien had given him, but he felt no genuine caring or concern. Some courtesans and their protectors genuinely loved each other, had relationships that lasted for decades. Grant knewmore than one man who had escaped the bitter disappointment of his arranged marriage by taking a mistress who would bear him children and serve him as the loving companion his wife should have been. For Vivien, however, the role of courtesan was played purely for reasons of business and profit.
“Do you have a set of keys to her town house?” Grant asked Gerard.
The question clearly nonplussed him. “I suppose I might. Do you intend to search her possessions? What do you expect to find?”
“Where Miss Duvall is concerned, I’m learning not to expect anything,” Grant replied dourly, while curiosity and an odd touch of dread tangled inside him at the prospect of visiting her town house. The more he discovered about Vivien and her sordid past, the darker his mood became.
Four
G rant deftly unlocked the bronzed door of Vivien’s town house, one of many located behind the palace front of east Grosvenor Square. The prestigious address, with its spectacular row of columns and arched doorways, must have cost a pretty penny. A further testament to Vivien’s skill at her profession, he thought darkly.
The interior was dim and quiet, with a faint mustiness in the air from being closed up for weeks. Grant lit a lamp and a pair of wall sconces, which shed a bright glow on walls covered in hand-painted wallpaper. Taking the lamp in hand, he wandered through the first-floor rooms. The house was elegant and decidedly feminine, with abundant frescoes of pastel flowers, walls covered in French paper, delicate furniture with spindlylegs, and large framed looking glasses over every fireplace.
He ascended the stairs, noting the costly twisted balusters with carved tread ends, and the lamps housed in crystal cases. It seemed no expense had been spared in decorating the place to Vivien’s satisfaction. Upstairs, the air seemed to hold a hint of stale perfume. He followed the scent to the main bedroom, lit more lamps, and surveyed his surroundings intently.
The walls were covered in emerald-green silk, a jewel tone that was echoed in the rich Brussels floral-patterned carpet underfoot. Although the current fashion for ladies’ bedrooms was to half conceal the bed
Similar Books
