A Secret Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

until he lost it.
    â€œThat’s why,” she continued, head emerging from the nightgown Nellie had thrown over her, “I made him swear not to try and identify me. The way I have it planned, he need never learn the truth.”
    She knew he wouldn’t appreciate having the wool pulled over his eyes. He had a deep, very real dislike of any form of deception. That, she suspected, was what lay behind his growing reputation for unmasking business frauds. “For now, everything’s perfect—he’s met the countess, heard her story, and agreed to help. He actually wants to help—wants to expose these men and their company. That’s important.” Whether she was reassuring Nellie or herself she wasn’t sure; her stomach hadn’t relaxed since he’d kissed her. “Lady Celia’s forever complaining about him being too indolent, too bored with life. The countess’s problem will give him something to work on, something that interests him.”
    Nellie snorted. “Next you’ll be saying being gulled will be good for him.”
    Alathea had the grace to blush. “It won’t hurt him. And I’ll be careful, so there’s no reason to think he ever will know that he’s been ‘gulled,’ as you put it. I’ll make sure he never meets the countess in daylight, or in any decent illumination. I’ll always wear a veil. With heels to make me even taller”—she gestured to the high-heeled shoes she’d discarded by the dressing table—“and that perfume”—another wave indicated the Venetian glass flacon standing before her mirror—“which is nothing like anything Alathea Morwellan has ever worn, I really do not see that there’s any danger of him knowing me.”
    Alathea glided to the bed; Nellie bustled ahead, turning down the covers and removing the copper warming pan. Slipping between the sheets, Alathea sighed. “So all is well. And when the company’s exposed and her family saved, the countess will simply”—she waved gracefully—“disappear in a drift of mist.”
    Nellie humphed. She shuffled about, tidying things away, hanging up Alathea’s clothes. From the wardrobe, she looked back at Alathea. “I still don’t see why you couldn’t simply go and see him, and tell him to his face what this is all about. Pride’s all very well, but this is serious.”
    â€œIt’s not only pride.” Lying back, Alathea gazed at the canopy. “I didn’t ask him to his face because he very likely would not have helped me, not personally. He’d have directed me to Montague as fast as he politely could, and that simply won’t do. I—we—need his help, not the assistance of his henchman. I need the knight on his charger, not his squire.”
    â€œI don’t see that—he’d have helped, why wouldn’t he? It’s not as if you two don’t go back near to all your lives. He’s known you since you was in your cradle. You played as babies and all through the years, right up until you was fifteen and ready to be a lady.” Her tidying done, candle in hand, Nellie approached the big bed. “If you was just to go to him and explain it all, I’m sure he’d help.”
    â€œBelieve me, Nellie, that wouldn’t work. While he’ll extend himself to help the mysterious countess, he would never do the same for me.” Turning onto her side, Alathea closed her eyes and ignored Nellie’s disbelieving sniff. “Good night.”
    After a moment, a soft, grumbling “Good night” reached her. The candlelight playing on her eyelids faded, then the door clicked as Nellie let herself out.
    Alathea sighed, sinking deeper into the mattress, trying to relax the muscles that had tensed when he’d kisssed her. That was the one development she hadn’t foreseen but it was hardly serious, presumably the