A Secret Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

affliction worse. They’d met briefly only a few months ago—their affliction was stronger than ever. They’d reduced each other to quivering rage in under three minutes. She couldn’t believe, if she asked for his help, that he’d break the habit of years and readily spend hours in her company—or, if he did, that it wouldn’t drive them both demented.
    More to the point, she hadn’t been able to risk finding out. If she’d presented her problem to him as herself, only to have him send her to Montague, she couldn’t then have appeared as the countess.
    No choice.
    He would never forgive her if he ever found out—ever learned she was the countess. He would probably do worse than that. But she’d had no choice—her conscience wasn’t troubling her, not really. If there’d been any other sure way of getting him to help her without deceiving him, she would have taken it, but . . .
    She was halfway asleep, drifting in the mists, her mind revisiting bits and pieces of their rendezvous, revolving more and more about that unnerving kiss, when she started awake. Blinking, eyes wide, she stared up at the canopy—and considered the fact that their decades-old mutual affliction had not reared its head that night.

“A la- the -aaa. Whoo-hoo! Allie! Can you pass the butter, please?”
    Alathea focused—Alice was pointing across the luncheon table. Bemusedly glancing in that direction, her brain belatedly caught up with reality; lifting the butter dish, she passed it across.
    â€œYou’re in a brown study today.” Serena was sitting next to her, at the end of the table.
    Alathea waved dismissively. “I didn’t sleep all that well last night.” She’d been so keyed up, primed to play the countess, desperate to secure Rupert’s aid, that she’d rested not at all before her three o’clock appointment. And afterwards . . . after her success, after that kiss, after realizing . . . she shook aside the distraction. “I’m still not used to all the street sounds.”
    â€œPerhaps you should move to another room?”
    Glancing at Serena’s sweet face, brow furrowed with concern, Alathea clasped her stepmother’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’m perfectly happy with my room. It faces the back gardens as it is.”
    Serena’s face eased. “Well . . . if you’re sure. But now Alice has woken you up”—her eyes twinkled—“I wanted to check how much we can afford to spend on the girls’ walking dresses.”
    Alathea gladly gave Serena her attention. Short, plump, and fashionably matronly, Serena was gentle and retiring, yet in the matter of her daughters’ come-outs, she’d proved both shrewd and well up to snuff. With real relief, Alathea had consigned all the details of their social lives, including their wardrobes, to Serena, more than content to play a supporting role in that sphere. They’d been in town for just over a week and all was on track for a pleasant Season all around.
    All she had to do was prove the Central East Africa Gold Company a fraud, and all would be well.
    The thought returned her mind to its preoccupation—and to the man she’d recruited last night. She glanced around the table, viewing her family as if through his eyes. She and Serena discussed materials, trimmings, and bonnets, with Mary and Alice hanging on every word. At the table’s other end, her father, Charlie, and Jeremy discussed the more masculine entertainments on offer. Alathea heard her father muse on the attractions of Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Saloon, a prospect guaranteed to divert both Charlie as well as his precocious younger brother.
    Leaving Serena, Mary, and Alice debating colors, Alathea turned to the youngest member of the family, sitting quietly beside her, a large doll on her lap. “And how are you and Rose today,