Barbara Pierce Read Online Free PDF

were watching them, he returned her show of courtesy with a bow.
    She shrugged casually. “Observation is a useful skill for an actress, my lord. It is, however, of little consequence,” Miss Winlow said, brushing by him.
    Ram surprised them both by halting her departure by grasping her upper arm. “How so?”
    The blonde gave him an innocent look. “I doubt we shall meet again. Your little secret is safe, Lord Ramscar. You have my word on it.”
     
     
    “You and the earl looked rather intimate earlier this eve,” Link remarked to Patience hours later as Lord Powning’s coachman drove them to their lodgings.
    “‘Intimate.’” Perry made a rude noise. “Such a fancy word for a crude act. The gent wanted to tup
some pretty miss, and thought our Patience was ripe for a tumble.”
    She grimaced at both her friends, although she doubted they could see her face clearly in the shadowed interior. “Not every gent has one hand in his breeches while the other is groping up some lady’s petticoats!” she said crossly.
    Deidra, Perry, and Link laughed at her naivety. The four years she had wandered the countryside with the troupe and Julian Phoenix had not completely eclipsed fourteen years of genteel innocence. Unlike the rest of them, she still believed there were a few notable individuals left in the world who were not self-serving. On the surface, Lord Ramscar seemed like a decent gentleman. Besides, he had been too preoccupied worrying about the proximity of the fire to think about seduction.
    Why are my thoughts so troubled?
    The marquess and his wife had declared their evening an out-and-out triumph, and the troupe had been paid handsomely for their efforts. Lord Powning had even given Patience a letter of recommendation, which she intended to use for procuring future engagements. Still, she could not shake off her edgy mood of discontentment.
    “What were you and the earl chatting about?” Deidra asked while she rested her head against Link’s shoulder. “He certainly seemed taken with you.”

    Patience wrinkled her nose at Deidra’s suggestion. “If you had worn your spectacles, you would not be spouting such nonsense. Our brief exchange barely qualified as a conversation.”
    She was not going to admit that a tantalizing awareness stirred her senses whenever her gaze met Lord Ramscar’s very direct hazel green eyes. Patience was too honest with herself to deny that she found the earl handsome. He was shorter than Perry and Link; she approximated his height at five feet, ten inches. His lean, muscular frame was likely honed by outdoor sports rather than the indoor variety suggested by the others. There was a confidence and arrogance in his bearing that drew one’s gaze to him.
    It was more than masculine beauty, although fate had not been stingy there. His chiseled oblong face was softened by hazel green eyes framed by long brown lashes, a straight nose, and full lips. Lord Ramscar’s hair was much darker than her pale blond tresses, lightened only in places by the sun. Its thick length was slightly longer than what was considered fashionable to some. Nevertheless, he kept it neat and clean, the ends tied in a queue at his nape. The earl was not handsome in the classical sense, but his face reflected intelligence, humor, and vitality. If she were still Miss Farnaly, she would have found him charming and hoped to have partnered him in a country dance.

    As Miss Winlow, she knew better than most that manners and a handsome face could mask the vilest scoundrel. Alas, she would never know if he were saint or devil. The troupe would not be in the parish long enough for her to discover the answer.
    “Bah, you are evading our questions,” Link said, slightly slurring his words. “We all saw him whispering into your ear. What did the gent do? Offend your fragile sensibilities by inviting you to his bed?”
    Perry burst into a fit of laughter, and Link shared his amusement. Deidra gave Patience a sympathetic