A Lady's Secret Weapon Read Online Free PDF Page A

including her. For those reasons and more, Sydney conducted her day-to-day operations out of a bedchamber-turned-study up on the second floor. The only staff she allowed in her haven were Amelia, Mac, and Mick. When dust balls threatened to overcome the chamber, she would take a break from her paperwork and tackle the cleaning herself.
    Sydney pulled papers from the upper drawer of her desk and placed them on the top, scattering them the slightest bit. Then she retrieved some ledgers and laid them on the opposite side. The last item she extracted was a tiny silver bell; this she set in the middle of the desk, just above the ink blotter.
    Opening one of the ledgers, she dipped a pen into the inkwell and waited. Before long, she heard her housekeeper’s familiar rapid approach followed by the more solid thunk of a gentleman’s step. She began writing.
    Her housekeeper rapped twice on the door before entering. “Miss Hunt, Lord Danforth to see you.”
    “Thank you, Wells.”
    She took her time replacing her pen in its holder before plastering a welcoming smile on her face. Sydney rose to greet one of the few people in all of London who could ruin everything she’d worked for. “Good morning, my lord.”
    “Miss Hunt,” he said, with an abbreviated bow, “thank you for seeing me.”
    He lifted his gaze to meet hers, and Sydney’s breath caught. Never before had she seen such a riveting shade of blue swirled with an equally captivating green. Sound narrowed to a pulse beat. Thump. Thump. Thump, thump, thump, thump . With bruises, scrapes, and swollen flesh marring his handsome features, he had been compelling. Without them, he was mesmerizing.
    She braced her fingertips on the top of her desk, struggling to regain her composure. But she could not stop making comparisons to the last time she saw him, sprawled on a narrow cot in an abandoned building.
    Today, broad shoulders tapered down to solid hips. Fawn-colored breeches strained against the musculature of his thighs, and his midnight blue superfine coat set off his wavy sable locks to godlike splendor.
    Many a lady had sold her soul for one night in his bed. He made them feel like heavenly goddesses, unearthly creatures made for his love, and the most important woman in his life… at that moment in time. Or so she’d been told. The fingers that were only moments ago supporting her unsteady legs curled into a fist.
    Even though she understood the reasons motivating his actions, he still represented everything she despised in a man. Gentlemen such as he walked the upper echelons of society, with money and power at their disposal, and laws at their mercy. They discarded women like they discarded a spent cheroot, while honorable men like Mac and Mick scraped by, day after day.
    Sydney would make sure she did not become one of Ethan deBeau’s golden deities.
    “Of course.” She slipped a stray curl behind her ear before indicating the lone chair in front of her desk. “Please make yourself comfortable.”
    Instead of complying, his lordship cocked his head at a curious angle and his mesmerizing blue-green eyes studied her face.
    The very last thing she wanted him to do. She lowered her chin a bit while she took her seat, hoping to break his concentration on her face. Once she was settled, she waved her hand toward his chair again. “My lord?”
    “Forgive me,” he said, taking his seat. “You reminded me of someone.”
    Sydney forced back a burst of anxiety. “You are not the first to think so,” she improvised. “I seem to have one of those faces.”
    He said nothing, though he continued to scrutinize her features with maddening thoroughness.
    Releasing a long, slow breath, she settled back in her chair. “Now then, how may I help you?”
    The intensity hardening his expression dissipated, and something altogether more dangerous took its place. Something predatory. “As I mentioned to your housekeeper,” he said. “I’m in need of a butler.”
    “What is