A Woman Made for Pleasure Read Online Free PDF

upon meeting her. According to Mother Wentworth, the Daring Three would soon redefine what Society considered diamonds of the first water.
    Millie was the smallest of them all, and the most spirited. Yet despite her propensity for unorthodox activities, she possessed her mother’s natural elegance and a charming wit that ensnared most of those around her.
    Tall, slender, with blond hair and snapping emerald eyes, Aimee fit every Society mother’s mold of ideal marriage material. And though a self-admitted bluestocking, Jennelle’s flawless skin, shapely figure, and intelligent blue eyes would enable her to select from many eligible men.
    Millie stopped twirling and looked beseechingly at her friend. “Jennelle, think of the societies that are here, many of which include people who love to learn and read as much as you do. Aimee! The museums, the art, the paintings!”
    Jennelle sat up abruptly and signaled Aimee. “Reflect on our friend’s sudden change in disposition toward Town, and I give you a chilling thought. She is up to something.” Jennelle pointed a finger at Millie, who deliberately ignored her. “Yes, our clever friend is definitely up to something. Millie, what are you planning?”
    Aimee looked perplexed. “Jennelle? What do you mean?”
    “I mean, Aimee, that Millie is suspiciously correct in her assertions. You have things of interest here in Town. Even I am looking forward to visiting a multitude of places. But Millie? Tell me, Aimee. What does London offer a noblewoman who loves to ride, hunt, and generally cause trouble?”
    Understanding suddenly crept into Aimee’s face as the blood rushed out. “Oh no. You are right.... Millie! What are you planning?”
    Millie spread her hands. “Me? You two are half asleep and spouting nonsense. I’m going downstairs before I vanish into nothingness due to hunger.” She could feel the eyes of her friends on her back as she escaped through the door before they could probe further.
     
     
    “There must be something edible here, though Lord knows how I am going to find it. May you experience a thousand hunger-filled days, Lord Gent,” Millie mumbled to herself as she tiptoed around the kitchen.
    “Oww!” Millie yelped and immediately strangled several sordid curses as she tried not to wake the house. “Bloody hell,” she moaned, trying to ignore the pain radiating from her foot. “What fool put a stool in the middle of the floor?”
    “I believe the last time we saw each other, you were hopping about precisely in the same manner. Including the bare feet,” Chase reflected from the shadows.
    Startled, Millie whirled around, searching for the speaker. “Who is there? Explain yourself.”
    She took a step forward and her long, dark brown hair shimmered in the moonlight. Chase lowered his gaze to skim appreciatively down the graceful line of her slender frame. He was not prepared for the petite but curvaceous beauty standing before him.
    Little Mildred Aldon had grown up.
    Her facial features had been replaced with those of a woman, delicate and feminine. Long lashes framed the unforgettable eyes that revealed both her curiosity and fear. Her lower lip was slightly fuller than her upper, and Chase found himself wondering if they were as soft and inviting as they looked.
    “Charlie? Is . . . is that you?” Millie asked, hugging herself as she approached the large man looming in the shadows. She had been twelve years old the summer she had said good-bye to Aimee’s brother, but his presence was unlike any other. Despite the years, she instinctively knew the voice belonged to the new Marquess of Chaselton, Charles Wentworth.
    Though loath to admit it aloud, he had been one of her life anchors as a child. After her mother died, Millie had felt out of control and alone. Aimee, Jennelle, Mother Wentworth, and to a large degree even Charlie, had provided her a familial refuge that gave her a sense of belonging. She had not realized how much Charlie had