Read Online The Scandalous Life of a True Lady by Bárbara Metzger - Free Book Online

supper this age. And what you are doing with an educated, polite female, I’ll never know. And that’s not to say you should be bringing strange women home, neither, not that it’s any of my affair.”
    It wasn’t, but that never stopped Mrs. Judd. She’d been a friend of his mother’s and he’d taken her in when her husband deserted her and the children. Now he told her not to worry. “Miss Ryland will not know anything until I am ready to tell her.”
    “The lass is downier than you think. Else why did she ask Sally if Major Harrison kept cats?”
    “That’s nothing. A lot of people keep cats. Maybe she likes them.”
    “And maybe she noticed the hairs on Harold’s coat when he brought in her trunk? White ones, what matched what she’d seen on the major’s sleeve?”
    Harry stood up so fast the feline on his lap hissed at him.

Chapter Six
    Major Harrison’s secretary was a tall, distinguished-looking gentleman of middle years with silver in his long sideburns and well-trimmed moustache. His upright, military bearing was far unlike his employer’s hunched posture, but, like the major, Mr. Harris wore tinted glasses. When he bowed stiffly over Simone’s hand, not bringing it anywhere near his lips, she again pictured the image of a handsome, dark-haired young man, the way both Major Harrison and his secretary might have looked in their youth. Perhaps they were related, she thought, although Mr. Harris was too young to be the major’s brother and too old to be his son. He was too rigid to be as congenial as the man of her dreams, the Harry she wished to meet. Why, he almost marched her into the brightly lit dining parlor and then sat as far from her as he could and began filling his plate from the platters laid out. Obviously they were meant to serve themselves, and just as obviously, she was merely another duty he had to perform, as hurriedly as possible.
    “Should I have Mrs. Judd remove some of the candles?” she asked, trying to be friendly. She looked toward the tinted spectacles. “Major Harrison also seemed to be affected by the bright light.” She did not mention that coincidence or the similarity of their names, or the white hairs on his midnight blue Bath superfine coat.
    “We served together,” was his terse answer, leading Simone to believe that either there had been an explosion, too much exposure to the Spanish sun, or none of her business. He spoke in the clipped tones of English public schools when he politely offered to pass this plate or pour from that bottle, but he did not say much else. He was more interested in his own meal than in Major Harrison’s chérie amour .
    Simone acknowledged his circumspection, but still took offense. Mrs. Olmstead had more conversation in one of her plump fingers than this gentleman had in his whole body. She ate more than she thought she might, partly because the meal was excellent, partly because she was afraid of offending Mrs. Judd, and partly to fill up the silence. She did refuse the syllabub, with no doubt that Mr. Harris would do justice to the bowl. He smiled at young Jeremy, who brought in the sweet, in a way he had not smiled at Simone.
    Out of unworthy petulance, she admitted to herself, Simone waited until he had filled his spoon, then asked, “Have you been with the major long?”
    He barely set the spoon down long enough to say “Long enough.” Then he went back to his dish.
    “Will he be visiting soon?”
    This time the spoon hit the edge of the bowl with a clatter. “Soon enough,” was his unhelpful reply.
    She waited until the spoon was almost at his mouth. “Tomorrow?”
    He decided to swallow first, his tongue licking the sweet stuff from his moustache. Simone was vaguely repulsed, wondering what other crumbs and spills left remnants there. Yet she found the gesture oddly boyish, too.
    “The major is a busy man,” he said, after quickly spooning another mouthful down his throat.
    She could be as rude as he was. “Are all