Read Online Taming His Scandalous Countess by Viola Morne - Free Book Online Page A

other
night. Snow seems happy but he doesn't know, does he?  What do you think he'll
do when he finds out?
     
    The anonymous letter writer had
been at the reception. Or was that a ruse? The event had been mentioned in
society columns. Anyone could have found that out. The questions remained: who
was writing the letters and what did they want? There was no request for money
or anything else. Perhaps making her suffer was an end in itself.
    "Countess?" Mr. Trent
hovered in the doorway. "Might I have a moment of your time?"
    Isabelle stuffed the letter back in
her pocket.
    "His lordship has asked me to
assist you with your social calendar for the next month."
    "Of course. Pray be seated,
Mr. Trent."
    Isabelle took the opposite chair,
grimacing slightly as her buttocks made contact with the firm surface. A ripple
of something passed over the secretary's smooth countenance. He seemed to be
well aware of Isabelle's difficulties. She cringed inwardly. Did everyone in
the household know? A hot wave of humiliation broke over her.
    Mr. Trent waited, until she firmed
her chin and looked at him.
    "Let us begin."
    *
* * * *
    Snow scowled into his cup of
coffee. He'd found a quiet alcove in the club to peruse the newspapers, but the
devil of it was, he was having trouble concentrating. Images of his wife
intruded into his consciousness, some disturbing and others frankly sensual.
How pathetic was he, when just the thought of his wife's ass, deliciously
rounded and reddened from his ministrations, made him hard? They'd barely
spoken since the night of the ball. Isabelle was his, to punish or succor as he
pleased, but had he gone too far? When she'd asked him if he'd fucked all the
women present, he’d been shocked and angered.
    Then again, she hadn't been
completely wrong. He had enjoyed congress with quite a number of them, either
married or widowed. As long as an outward respectability was preserved in the
eyes of society, any number of vices might be tasted in private. Snow knew he
had a reputation and it was well-earned. Isabelle, however, had no business to
question him about anything, let alone his morals.
    How to tame his high-spirited wife,
without breaking her? What was it that Isabelle needed? She had married him to
get away from her brother, to regain a place in society and a full life. Snow
knew her first marriage had not been happy. Perhaps Croucher was responsible
for her extraordinary behavior. And what of the child she never spoke about? He
hadn't presumed on her reserve to discuss the marriage, but perhaps he should.
    Snow took another sip. There had
been something about Isabelle that night, something beyond the defiance that
stirred both his anger and his desire. Perhaps she was afraid that he, too,
would betray her. The sad fact was that since encountering Isabelle, he hadn't
looked at another woman. She couldn't know that, of course.
    He wanted his wife to be happy, to
feel cherished and secure. Until that night, he'd thought they were growing
closer. He blew out a sigh. He was probably wrong about that too.
    Snow looked up from his ruminations
to meet the ironic gaze of Leighton Frost.
    "How pensive you seem, my dear
fellow." Frost crossed his legs. "Woman trouble?"
    Damn the fellow for being so acute.
Snow shrugged.
    Frost snagged his own coffee from a
passing waiter. "Tell Uncle Leighton all about it. Don't feel you have to
neglect any of the salacious details."
    "Marriage is the very
devil."
    "Indubitably. How is your
angel, by the way?"
    "Headstrong, saucy, and
completely adorable."
    "Good God, man! Are you in
love with the wench?"
    "Of course not. It's just that
having a wife is quite different from what I imagined. Having her available
whenever I want, yes, but it's the other part, the caring about how she's
feeling, and what's she's thinking, worrying about her. I tell you, it's
exhausting." Snow downed the rest of his coffee and signaled the waiter.
    Frost raised an eyebrow.
    "Brandy. I might as well