A Lot Like a Lady Read Online Free PDF Page B

Juliet suppressed another groan. She shifted her eyes to meet his and found him regarding her with one eyebrow arched. She hadn’t been paying any attention to him. Had he addressed her? Asked her a question?
    He swept his hand wide, indicating a leather chair to the side of his desk.
    Juliet perched on the chair’s edge and waited. The duke went back to studying his ledger and scratching notes with his quill.
    The silence dragged on. Her feet sank into the plush burgundy and cream carpeting and she dug her toes into the softness, wishing she dared slip off her shoes. The rug would feel so grand beneath her stockinged feet. She stopped fidgeting, fearing the duke would notice. Heavy silence hung between them, broken only by the scritch-scritch-scritch of that horrid pen. The slow clop of horses’ hooves drifted in through the window and Juliet stole a glance at the sunlight streaming through the glass panes, warming the room.
    Finally, anxiety threatened to shoot her up out of the chair. She could only pray her demeanor didn’t give away that she was trembling uncontrollably inside.
    Just when it seemed the soundless torture would never end, he spoke. “I must extend my apologies for being absent last evening. I had previous engagements I could not cancel. Although, in my defense, I had not planned on receiving guests.”
    Juliet clamped her teeth around the skin on the inside of her mouth and dug her nails into her palms. The blasted man had the manners of a horse’s behind, nothing at all like his kind, generous father. As far as he was concerned she was his stepsister, yet he didn’t even have the courtesy to look at her or quit writing in his blasted ledger as he spoke. And he was telling her he didn’t want her there. Not right out, but his tone clearly said she wasn’t welcome. It was one thing for an aristocrat to treat his servants rudely, something Juliet was all too familiar with. But such treatment to one’s peers, one’s family no less, was surely an abomination.
    He glanced up at her. “I hope your aunt is faring well after… well, I do apologize for Lucien’s dog. When it comes to manners, the beast is most certainly lacking.”
    He’s not alone . “Thank you for asking after her. Lady Harmony is much better this morning.”
    The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “I thought Lady Charity suffered the fall.”
    Blister it! “It-it was Lady Charity, your grace. What I meant to say was that Lady Harmony said Lady Charity is much better.” Juliet stopped breathing. Had he noticed her dreadful mistake?
    “I see.” He shifted his attention back to the ledger, turned a page and began writing again. Sunlight streaming through the window at his back slashed across the paper, revealing neat, even rows and columns filled with numbers. “I must say, I am quite curious about why your mother decided to send you to London for the Season to get a husband.” His pen stilled and he lifted his eyes to her face. “What happened? Did you get turned down by all the country bumpkins so you had to come and try to snag someone here in London?”
    Juliet sucked in a sharp breath. Heat crept into her cheeks, more from anger at the duke’s crass reaction to the real Annabella’s plight than out of embarrassment. “Hard to get turned down by country bumpkins when sh — I haven’t met any.”
    He narrowed his eyes and glared. “Am I to believe you have been living as a recluse these past few years?”
    Juliet lowered her head, unwilling to answer. Loyalty to Annabella made her clamp her mouth shut, refusing to confess to the duke how lonely her friend had been. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how he had succeeded in making Annabella and Regina social outcasts. Didn't want him to know the only invitations she had received of late were from older neighbors who had greatly respected the old duke, or to church functions that included all parishioners.
    All because you’re an arrogant,