Read Online The Princess and the Pauper by Alexandra Benedict - Free Book Online

he
stored his mistress, especially if she lived somewhere else in the
house. She certainly didn’t want to know that or that Rees visited her every night or .
. .
    Emily wasn’t sure why she’d mentioned the
other woman and attacked the duck breast, but then her thoughts
changed direction, and she realized what he’d admitted—no one,
apart from her, had entered his bedroom, his sanctum, the place
where he composed his music. Why had he made an exception for
her?
    Why was she different?
    Her heartbeat quickened just as lightning
sparked, and she wasn’t sure what had set off her pulse—his
admission or the storm.
    “ Besides,” he said offhandedly.
“She has her reputation to consider.”
    A strumpet with a
reputation?
    “ A lady cannot visit a bachelor
in the dead of night . . . or so I’m told.”
    A lady? His mistress was a real
lady?
    And Emily was not.
    She closed her eyes. He would dredge the
past and bring to light every sin. But she wasn’t prepared to
remember the ill-fated night she had gone to him, tempted
him.
    She should have let Rees walk away with
Papa’s admiration and his honor intact. She knew that now. But she
had risked everything for one kiss. Something a proper lady would
never do . . .
    “ Are you well,
princess ?”
    His voice
dropped , and
the low timbre sent a shiver through her spine. All those years
ago, she had yearned for more than his friendship, more than his
music.
    She had yearned for him.
    “ I am well,” she lied and lifted
her lashes. “Why?”
    “ You and I must clear the
air.”
    “ What more is there to
say?”
    There was plenty more to say, of
course, all of it ugly, and they both knew it. She just couldn’t
express any of it, much less hear it from him.
    “ You lied to me,” he
said.
    She took a measured breath. He would not
let the past rest. And she had nowhere to hide. “I don’t know what
you mean.”
    “ Your father—”
    “ My father?” Chair legs screeched against the
hardwood floor as she pushed the furniture back and vacated the
seat. “I won’t talk about Papa.”
    He followed her across the room. “And
why is that?”
    “ I won’t speak of the
dead.”
    “ You won’t speak ill if the
dead, you mean?”
    She whirled around. “How dare
you ?”
    “ How dare I? How dare he leave you penniless, investing in wild
schemes?”
    She balled her hands. Had
Rees searched
the city for gossip about her father? Is that how he’d spent day?
Why? Why did it matter to him?
    Because Papa destroyed his
violin.
    Her m ind returned to the awful moment when
Papa had crushed the magical instrument. He had crushed her heart,
too, for she would never hear another note from that violin again.
She would never hear Rees play again.
    But Rees should be angry with
her, and her alone. She had tiptoed from her bedroom to be with him. She had tempted him into
a kiss. Her father had only protected her. And he wouldn’t have
needed to protect her if she hadn’t been so reckless, so
wanton.
    Emily glanced at the door, expecting Papa
to explode into the room. Again she remembered he was dead. He
never treated her the same after booting Rees from the house. Once
his fury had settled, he’d asked her one probing question. How had
Rees dragged her from her bed to his room without anyone seeing or
hearing the assault? And when she’d failed to deliver a prompt and
reasonable response, he’d viewed her with suspicion, right to his
dying day.
    “ Outrageous speculation in
Argentina. Indiscrete investments across America. He was throwing
away money,” accused Rees. “Why would he do such a
thing?”
    She stiffened. She
wouldn’ t
admit the truth about her father’s declining mind. His solicitor
had begged her to have him declared insane and save what was left
of his fortune. Her former fiancé, the Earl of Dresmond, had
pleaded with her to do the same, but she’d refused. She had already
betrayed Papa once with her entanglement with Rees, and she would
not do it