Read Online The Love Affair of an English Lord by Jillian Hunter - Free Book Online Page A

believe you. But, yes, I know everything, from the botched holdup in Chelsea to his recent crime in Chistlebury.”
    â€œYou were eavesdropping on my conversation.”
    â€œOf course I was. It happens to be a very helpful habit. I assume you are determined to protect this black-sheep brother of yours?”
    â€œI have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    â€œYour loyalty is quite touching, really. I hope it is returned. You called a man’s name when you opened the closet door. Devon, I think. I don’t believe I have had the pleasure of meeting the young devil.”
    â€œI want you to go away right now.”
    He ignored her command and picked up the morocco leather journal he had just spotted on her dresser. “Even from the grave I have a fair amount of money at my disposal. I imagine I could repay his debts several times over and not miss the loss.”
    She shot forward to rescue the journal from his large hands and stuff it under the bed. Fortunately, it was too dark for him to read her personal scribblings, but the mere suggestion of this rogue being privy to her innermost secrets was an intrusion she would not tolerate.
    He watched her in amusement. “One should never record material of an intimate nature on paper.”
    â€œOne would assume a journal in one’s own bedchamber would be safe from prying eyes.”
    He crossed his arms over his chest. “If you agree to help me, I might be able to save Devon from his apparent course of self-destruction. Even if the authorities turn a blind eye on his behavior, one of his victims might just decide to shoot him on the spot.”
    The same fear had entered her uncle’s mind. Devon was courting danger, if not death. “Are you striking a bargain with me?” she asked coolly.
    And in an even cooler voice, he replied, “A bargain, yes, if you like.”

Chapter 5

    â€œBlackmail.” Chloe’s voice rang out in the shadows. “That’s what I would call it.”
    Before Dominic could respond, the conversation was interrupted by a
ping
-
ping
-
ping
that came from behind the closet door. The distinct sound of someone throwing dirt at the window from which Chloe had seen her chemise so provocatively dangled only an hour or so ago.
    She stared across the room in an agony of indecision. It was impossible to pretend she did not hear the noise. Dominic clearly heard it, too, his thick black brows lifting in speculation. The disturbance could only be her irresponsible brother trying in his unsubtle way to get her attention.
    If she ignored his summons, Devon, the reckless one, would either awaken the entire household or, worse, would decide blithely to climb into her window to find her. Another spray of dirt hit the window.
    He would confront Stratfield. Disaster, possibly death, would result.
    Dominic whistled through his teeth. “I suggest you take care of your visitor before the damn fool disturbs everyone in the house.”
    Chloe pulled the silk robe together, not certain how much he could see of her in the dark. “And what do you suggest I tell him?” she whispered, her eyes narrowing.
    He grabbed her arm, ignoring her gasp of outrage, and propelled her toward the closet, muttering, “Tell him the whole British army is watching the house. Tell him to stop robbing coaches! Tell him anything, but make him go away.”
    â€œGood advice,” she retorted, shaking off his arm. “Perhaps you should take it yourself.”
    He gave her a little push toward the window, still left open from his entry into her trunk. Chloe leaned over the sill, too benumbed really to feel the cool midnight mist shimmer over her burning face. She started as her chemise snagged in the wood.
    She could not believe this was happening to her. To think she had yearned for adventure. To think she had half wished that day in the rain that Stratfield would whisk her away from her uneventful life and . . .