A Daughter's Destiny Read Online Free PDF Page B

Somerset—”
    â€œMiss LeClerc, I do think you need to decide what you are going to call me.”
    â€œHow did you get in here?”
    His smile broadened as he slowly forced the door open wide enough for him to enter. Putting his hat on a nearby table as if he were a regular caller, he said, “You should be more cautious, Brienne. Your kitchen door is unlocked.”
    â€œIt cannot be unlocked. I locked it last night after you left.”
    â€œMayhap a breeze blew it open.”
    â€œThat is impossible. It—” She saw amusement twinkling in his eyes. He knew any breath of wind that might find its way along the alley would not have been strong enough to ruffle a hair on a lady’s coiffure. Someone would have to help that breeze open a locked door. And that someone must have been Evan Somerset, fine gentleman. On the outside, that was, but what was behind the façade?
    â€œWhat do you want?” she asked, too tired to argue. She had spent the night tending Maman and cleaning up downstairs.
    â€œJust now? I would like to talk with you.”
    â€œIf you want the vase—”
    â€œI said I wanted to talk, Brienne. I said nothing about buying anything.”
    Stepping aside, she agreed, “All right, but you can stay only a few minutes. I have more work to do downstairs.”
    â€œYou have done wonders in the salon.” He brushed invisible dust from the navy coat he wore over a sedate, light blue waistcoat. “It looks almost as pleasant as it did before.”
    â€œMay I remind you,” she retorted in her haughtiest voice, “that you alone doubted we would reopen tonight? I knew I could count on my neighbors to lend me what I needed.”
    â€œProbably because they have been able to count on you many times in the past.”
    â€œHow did you know that?”
    â€œYou are well known about here.”
    â€œHave you been asking about me?”
    He shook his head. “No need. The hubbub here yesterday is all that is being talked about along the street. Everyone is agog about it.”
    Walking across the parlor, he paused by the settee which once might have been gold but had faded to a sad tan. He looked around the room with indifference, but Brienne recognized this pose. It was the same one he had used in the salon yesterday before he offered her all that money for Maman’s vase.
    When a frown ruffled his brow, she resisted defending her home from his upper-class snobbery. She knew the parlor looked threadbare compared to the fine townhouse where he claimed to live. But this room, along with the two bedrooms and the tiny storeroom, held the memories of generations past. The furniture was shabby, but the wood glowed with care, and the tops of the two small tables were covered with books and lamps.
    When Mr. Somerset picked up a framed miniature, Brienne took it from him. “Be careful with that!”
    He tipped her hand so he could see the face in it. “Is this your father?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhere is he?”
    â€œDead.”
    At her terse answer, he said, “You don’t sound very sad.”
    â€œHe died when I was not much more than a baby. I find it impossible to mourn for a man I never knew.” She put the portrait in its special spot on the table.
    â€œYet he gave you a legacy.”
    â€œA legacy?”
    â€œYou cannot have failed to note how much your eyes and stubborn chin are shaped like your late father’s.”
    â€œSo Maman has said often.”
    â€œMay we sit while we talk?” He lavished that charming smile on her again.
    She pointed to the settee. “Please make yourself comfortable, Mr. Somerset.”
    â€œYou should call me Evan, as we are about to become business partners.”
    His words froze her. When she realized she was poised halfway between sitting and standing, she dropped onto the chair. “Partners?”
    From beneath his coat, he pulled a handful of pound