A Proper Scandal Read Online Free PDF

Lord Rainsleigh? Lady Elisabeth?”
    Rainsleigh bristled. It was common knowledge that he’d been introduced to practically no one, especially young women. He put on a neutral face. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
    â€œI don’t see her at the moment,” Lady Banning said, “but we’ll find her, and you must be introduced. She knows every corner of Hyde Park, especially the damp, boggy bits, judging from the condition of her boots. I’m sure she will be happy to educate you about where the trail has washed out or where the best shade can be found.”
    â€œThat would be most useful.”
    He bowed again, making way for the dripping older couple behind him. The countess easily soothed them, all sympathy and smiles. Charming woman, he conceded. She’d shown him no veiled slight or indignity. Attractive, too, despite being twenty years his senior.
    A footman led him down the wide hall to an adjacent salon. It was a small gathering. Mostly elderly couples and young women. There was a glaring lack of gentlemen and no one easily identifiable as his equal in rank or wealth. Possibly a statement about his inclusion, possibly harmless.
    Two more young women strolled into view, which made five girls, all told. He rubbed his jaw. A footman passed with a tray of drinks, and he took a glass, counting in his head. Five young women, the widowed countess, and a clutch of elderly people, old enough to have met Christ. He took a drink. This dinner made no sense.
    But now here was Lord Beecham, making for him at a slow waddle from a chair beside the fire.
    â€œRainsleigh!” the baron called, his politician’s smile wide on his ruddy face. “So good of you to come. Lady Banning and my wife have been determined to welcome you to town before the others.”
    â€œOthers?” Rainsleigh took another drink.
    â€œBut of course! Point of pride, really. Wanted to be first and to make an impression. You’ve seen the lovely debutantes? Convened the lot—oh, there must be four or five of them—in hopes of lighting the tinder of a brilliant match.”
    Rainsleigh choked on his drink. “The young women are for me?”
    â€œOh, but do not think to keep secrets in this town, old boy. London hostesses can smell a marriage-minded gentleman as far as Middlesex. They’ll know it’s time to get shackled before you do.”
    â€œHow accommodating. I hadn’t—”
    â€œBut before you become distracted by the young ladies, I must bend your ear about my shipping levy . . . ”
    And he was off, lobbying on behalf of the maritime legislation he’d been touting to the shipping magnates for weeks. Rainsleigh nodded, only half listening, and allowed his eyes to wander. He surveyed the room.
    Four or five young ladies for me ? This had not occurred to him. He took another sip. But he had no idea what to do with four or five young ladies. Mincing through marriage prospects was to be Dunhip’s job. Rainsleigh intended to sweep in at the eleventh hour and consider the finalists, perhaps the top four. Or even two.
    He narrowed his eyes, studying the girls. My God , but they were young. Barely out of the schoolroom. He was thirty-four years of age, head of his family, shipbuilder, landholder, viscount. Certainly maturity in his future bride was a priority. With maturity would come reserve, calm, discretion, self-control . . .
    One of the girls looked up and caught him in a stare. She was tall. Frocked in yellow. Brown hair, strong nose. Rainsleigh considered her. She appeared elegant enough. He gave a curt nod. The girl smiled coquettishly and lowered her eyes without breaking the stare. She blinked. While he watched, she discreetly extended the tip of her tiny pink tongue and licked her upper lip. At him. For him.
    Rainsleigh turned away.
    No . Absolutely not. No boldness. First and foremost. Especially no provocative, flirtatious