Betina Krahn Read Online Free PDF Page A

my…but…the prince…” She looked to Jack in disbelief.
    He scowled pointedly at her, then looked away…hoping she would see what had to be seen…that he hadn’t disabused the prince of the idea that something had happened between him and the widow.
    “This is a surprise for you, clearly,” Jack said emphatically to mask his discomfort. “But I would counsel that you think well before rejecting such an opportunity. The prince’s fancy does not usually dwell for long in one place…and yet the honor and the benefit to you may be such that you will be well-fixed for life. The prince is very generous to his friends.”
    “So he is, our beloved prince,” the baron added. “Most generous.”
    “An honor?” she said. “To serve as a paramour to a married man?”
    “To our future monarch,” the baron corrected. “Make no mistake, madam. Ladies who serve the prince in such a personal capacity are not regarded as mere courtesans or ‘paramours.’ These ladies, great and small, serve both crown and country and are regarded with utmost respect.”
    Her hand tightened visibly on the letter. She seemed to have difficulty getting her breath.
    Jack scowled. She must surely understand that she had been selected for a singular honor, one that dukes of the realm actively encouraged their lady wives to seek, knowing that with fancy came favor. However, she had not been bred to the class that sought advancement above all else. The turmoil in her was disconcerting. If she truly had some moral objection—
    He caught himself. Not hardly. She was hot enough for a man’s touch—even a man she had hardly met. His ears heated at the thought of how he knew that. And she was a widow, after all. It wasn’t as if she had vows to observe or a maiden-head to hoard. If she had a brain in her head she would come around quickly and take Bertie’s offer.
    “Perhaps you need time to think it through,” Jack said. “To see the advantage to all sides in this arrangement.”
    “Of course.” The baron leaned closer. “And while you are thinking, madam, be sure to consider the sizeable debts youhave incurred on behalf of your quaint establishment. One word from the prince and your thousand-pound loan can be paid and stricken from both ledger and memory. A different word, however, could bring the note due this very day. You are surely clever enough to see the advantage in allying yourself to such power.”
    “I believe she has the idea,” Jack said, stepping back and pulling the baron out of her way. “Shall we call for your answer, say, at four-thirty?”
    Rigid with control, she picked up her garden tools, set them in a nearby wheelbarrow, then stalked off down the path to the house. The shush of pea gravel under her feet sounded uncannily like the swish of silk petticoats. Jack felt a curious clutch in his chest at the thought.
    When she disappeared into the house, he came to his senses and found Marchant wearing a smug expression.
    “What are you smiling about?” he asked the wily baron.
    “She’s a hot one, all right.” The baron thumped his arm. “But I can’t say I envy Bertie the trouble she’ll be.”
    “ If she agrees.” He stuck his hat on his head and struck off down the path to the inn.
    “Oh, she’ll agree,” the baron said with a wicked chuckle, falling in beside him. “Her eyes lit like Fawkes’ Night bonfires when I said the word debts. Take a lesson, Jack my boy. Money trumps morality every time.”

3
    “I WANT a fire, a brandy and a bath,” Mariah declared as she burst into the kitchen and ripped off her jacket, muffler and rubber boots. “Now.”
    The household staff—cook, butler, housemaid and kitchen boy—stared in confusion at her and then at each other. Brandy? At noon?
    Robert, her stoop-shouldered butler, who more closely resembled a question mark with each passing year, shuffled off mumbling and squinting as he thrust his keys to arm’s length to fish for the one that opened the