A Taste for Scandal Read Online Free PDF

tangible parts of a man.
    He came up short as a thought occurred to him. Damn it all, he couldn’t do anything until after the ball tonight. He groaned and dropped onto the bench at the foot of his bed.
    Somehow or another, this had to be the shrew’s fault, too.

Chapter Four
    “I feel as though it’s my duty as your father to ask what happened to your eye, but I must confess, I’m not entirely sure I want to know the answer.”
    Richard glanced up from his solitary game of billiards and grinned at his father’s dubious expression. “You mean, for example, that it may have involved a female and a scuffle I had with one of her male relatives?” He laid down his cue stick and leaned against the table, crossing his arms.
    “Yes, that is exactly what I mean.”
    “Very well. I shall keep the details to myself.” Richard wasn’t hiding anything—he’d already given his mother a rough account of the details once he’d gotten some sleep—but it was much more fun to leave it to his father’s imagination.
    Father merely shook his head and chuckled as he brushed past him, making his way to the cigar box in the place of honor on the sideboard. The billiards room was little more than a long, narrow room in a part of the house that received the least amount of natural light. Smelling of exotic cigar smoke and decorated with dark, masculine fixtures and plenty of leather and iron, it was one of the few places that the females in the house rarely ventured. Which was a miracle, as far as Richard was concerned. If he didn’t know for a fact that he possessed only four sisters and one mother, he would swear there were ten of them—and Evie wasn’t even in residence.
    Richard watched as his father opened the massive box and looked over the selection, ultimately choosing one of the full-bodied Caribbean varieties. Richard could almost see the stress of the day slip from his father’s shoulders as he pulled the cigar beneath his nose and inhaled deeply. Ever the responsible and imposing Marquis of Granville in public, he tended to let his guard down around his family. Richard appreciated his easy humor and open affection—there were precious few peers with such traits.
    At last his father snipped the end and lit the cigar from a nearby candle. After several puffs he turned and regarded Richard, his head tilted to the side as he blew out a cloud of blue smoke. “You know, son, at some point one must move past such indiscretions and settle down.”
    Oh for God’s sake, first Mother, now him? “So I’ve been told—this very morning, in fact. And I agree. ‘At some point,’ I promise to do so.”
    “You do realize that if anything ever happens to me, all that stands between the lifestyle your sisters and mother have always known and their being kicked to the curb is your continued good health. God forbid you meet with some sort of accident—or a duel.”
    Richard worked not to roll his eyes. His father was as hale and hearty as he was—probably more so. If it weren’t for his graying, thinning hair, one could mistake him for a man half his age. “Have no fear—duels are fought far too early in the morning to be of any interest to me.”
    “A sentiment not nearly as reassuring as it might be, accompanied as it is with the colorful state of your eye socket.”
    Richard probed the area with the tips of his fingers, pleased not to feel much in the way of swelling. “Actually, it’s not near as bad as I thought it would be. He really only got the one good punch in.” It still hurt like the devil, but the blow had glanced more to his temple than his eye, so it was only mildly colored—the last time he’d checked, anyway.
    Not wanting to dwell on the topic at hand, he said, “How was your meeting with the solicitor today?”
    Father sighed, but didn’t fight the change of subject. “Very well, actually. The negotiations for the new stud are complete, and he should be delivered to Hertford Hall by week’s end.