A Scoundrel by Moonlight Read Online Free PDF Page B

eyebrows. “How did you come to work here?”
    She straightened in the chair, which would have put any of the furniture in her stepfather’s cottage to shame. “I’m an orphan.”
    “Is that so?”
    Her lips tightened. When she’d told his mother that her parents were dead—well, it was true, however kind her stepfather was—the marchioness had overflowed with sympathy. Lord Leath studied her as if reading the layers of deceit beneath every word.
    “Yes.”
    “And how long have you been alone in the world?”
    She couldn’t restrain a faint sharpness. “You speak as if my bereavement is a matter of choice, my lord.”
    He bared his teeth. “My apologies.”
    She shifted uncomfortably under his unblinking regard, before she reminded herself that betraying her fear gave him the advantage. “My father was a sergeant major under Wellington in Portugal. He died when I was a child. My mother remarried and died when I was fifteen.”
    All true. So why did she feel like she lied?
    “Where did you grow up?”
    “Sussex.” Her first lie. If she mentioned Kent, he might connect her to Dorothy, although he’d shown no recognition when she’d told him her name last night.
    “You don’t sound like you’re from Sussex. You sound like a lady.”
    William Simpson had been an unusual man, educated on a scholarship at Cambridge despite his humble origins. He’d made sure that both girls in his charge spoke with educated accents. “Are there no ladies in Sussex?” she asked sweetly.
    His lips quirked. “None that I’ve met.”
    That was another surprise. In her imaginings, Dorothy’s seducer had possessed no sense of humor. Nell had expected evil to seep from his very pores. But unless she’d already known his wickedness, she’d see nothing to despise and much to admire. It was odd, the more she saw of Leath, the less she understood why flirty, flighty Dorothy had found him appealing. Perhaps on the hunt, he adopted a different style.
    “How did a woman from the gentle south end up here?”
    She’d prepared a plausible story. The marchioness had swallowed it without question. She had a nasty feeling that the marquess wasn’t nearly so trusting. “I was to take employment in York, but the lady was called back to London unexpectedly and shut the house. One of the other servants told me about Alloway Chase and I decided to try my luck.”
    His face didn’t lighten. Her stomach sank with the certainty that she hadn’t gulled him. “So you crossed an inhospitable moor, came miles from the nearest civilization, on the off chance of finding employment?”
    She kept her voice positive. “Indeed, sir. Fortunately there was a vacancy for a housemaid.”
    That had been lucky. Although if there hadn’t been a place, she’d have sought work in the area and waited until ajob opened up. Staff at big houses were always coming and going. She’d have found a spot eventually, especially with the excellent references she’d written in the guise of a wholly fictitious employer at a wholly fictitious Sussex manor. Of course there was a risk that someone might check her background, but hopefully by the time anybody discovered her ruse, she’d be far away with the diary in her possession.
    Under that level gaze, she battled the impulse to fidget. No wonder Leath had such a reputation as a shark in parliament. If she were the opposition, she’d roll over and give him anything he wanted.
    “I find it puzzling that you accepted such a junior position. Surely if you can read and write, you’d find work as a governess.”
    Perhaps she should have adopted a rustic accent. The problem was that she couldn’t see herself keeping up the pretense. “I was desperate, sir.”
    She should have known that an appeal to his compassion would fail. “Is that so?”
    When she didn’t answer—she wasn’t a skilled liar, which was why she stuck to the truth as far as possible—he went on. “And now you’re my mother’s