A Well Pleasured Lady Read Online Free PDF

similar reaction from his godmother. He held his extended hands cupped upward as if to catch the blessings she would rain on him.
    Acutely aware of his charm and power, Mary feared him—in all his guises.
    Floundering now, she tried to redeem herself. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done, Lady Valéry, but it just seems that you, Lord Whitfield, are better equipped to gain entrance to Fairchild Manor than I.”
    â€œPerhaps we should look at this another way.” He smiled invitingly. “Think of the family’s consternation when they find their long-lost niece is already betrothed.”
    â€œWhy should they care?”
    â€œIf I were to speculate, I would have to say that since the marquess’s death, each and every Fairchild has been given a mission—to wed money.” For a man who smiled often, Lord Whitfield gave no impression of warmth or amusement. “Even now, I would guess, they are regretting the loss of you as another lure. The family will believe you to be just like them—charming, convivial, beautiful—”
    â€œShallow, vindictive, frivolous, treacherous,” she finished for him.
    He sat back in a hypocritical exhibition of wonder. “You did meet them, didn’t you?”
    â€œQuite,” she said.
    â€œBut they were not all…vindictive,” he admitted. “Or treacherous.”
    She wanted to ask who he meant, but he returned to the subject with relish. “The Fairchilds would expect you to be one of them.”
    â€œThey will try and separate us, and why not? It will be immediately obvious that we are less than fond.”
    â€œWill it?” He lifted one finger and caressed his lips in a manner Mary found highly suggestive. “I suspect we can convince them we are…lovers.”
    Lady Valéry had been watching them with the fascination of a playgoer, but now she interrupted. “You’ll convince them of no such thing! You’ll not ruin her reputation, Sebastian, not when she’s been living with me all these years.”
    â€œShe is going, my lady. She has no choice.” He had gone from superior to overbearing to ruthless in the space of a single conversation.
    â€œSomehow you’ll force me?” Mary asked.
    â€œNot at all.” His street-dog smile made her want to arch her back and claw at his face. “Your father was the Fairchild without treachery. Are you going to tell me you haven’t inherited that loyalty from him?”
    â€œI have inherited nothing from my father,” she said fiercely. “My loyalty is my own.”
    Sitting up straight, he became in expression and manner a courteous stranger. “Then I’ll have to speak to your brother. Perhaps I can convince him to accompany me.”
    A shiver worked its way up Mary’s spine. This man, talking to Hadden? Offering him a chance to goto England? Then interrogating him as he interrogated her?
    Not that Hadden was simple. No, indeed, Hadden could be—should be—studying at the university. But he was open and unsophisticated, and Mary cringed at the thought of the information he would artlessly reveal.
    She recognized defeat when it stared her in the face, and so rose with what dignity she could maintain. “When did you wish to leave, my lord?”
    â€œTomorrow,” he said.
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous, Sebastian,” Lady Valéry said. “She can’t make herself ready overnight.”
    â€œHow much can she have to pack?” he demanded impatiently.
    â€œShe has to organize the staff for her absence.”
    â€œShe won’t be coming back.”
    â€œWon’t be coming back?” Mary cried.
    He said simply, “Fairchilds don’t work as housekeepers.”
    â€œHe’s right, dear.” Lady Valéry smiled at Mary. “Much as I hate to lose you, I’m afraid our cozy arrangement is over.”
    Mary felt the carefully built foundation