Beyond Seduction Read Online Free PDF

standing before a cheval glass. Her dresser, a woman even more ancient than Ginny, was known only as Madame. She rarely spoke, English or French, but was, despite her age, a genius with a needle. Merry's mother would order her gowns cut by Worth in Paris , then have them stitched at home. This was not for economy's sake; Lavinia scorned such schemes. She had Madame sew her clothes because the woman could fit a dress like a second skin.
     
    At the moment, she and the seamstress were draping lengths of cloth across her bosom, apparently seeking the ideal color for a gown.
     
    "The emerald plaid camel hair, I think," said Lavinia, "with the matching silk for the bodice and underskirt."
     
    "The color is good," Madame agreed with an inscrutable pursing of her lips.
     
    "Mother?" said Merry, before the two could continue what was sure to be a long discussion.
     
    Lavinia spied her in the mirror. "If you're here to ask me to intercede with your father, there's nothing I can do. He is the head of this household. Besides, I agree with him. Remember how glum you were
    when James and Evelyn wed? Imagine how you'll feel when Peter marries and all your friends have families, too. Women need occupation. And don't tell me you want to be one of those female postal clerks. Even you couldn't be that mad."
     
    Merry hoped her mother couldn't hear her grind her teeth. "I have a plan," she said, struggling to sound pleasant and self-assured. "I've had one for years."
     
    Her mother raised her brows, but before she could respond the butler knocked on the open door. "Pardon, Your Grace. Sir Patrick Althorp has just sent up his card."
     
    Her mother went so pale Merry feared that she would faint. She recovered with a toss of her well-coifed head.
     
    "For goodness sake!" she exclaimed, her cheeks now brightly pink. "Can't you see I am not at home to visitors? Tell the baronet I'll see him later."
     
    And she dismissed the butler with a wave of her elegant hand.
     
    "Is something wrong?" Merry asked, surprised by her response. Lately, the duchess and Ernest's father had been as thick as thieves. The duke didn't seem to mind, but sometimes Merry wondered at his unconcern. She herself did not like the man. He was too watchful, she thought, like a serpent about to strike. "Have you and Sir Patrick fallen out?"
     
    Her mother exhaled loudly but did not confirm this budding hope. Instead, she swapped the green plaid she'd been holding for a deep magenta satin. The color looked fine to Merry, but both Lavinia and Madame immediately shook their heads. Once the offending bolt was set aside, her mother's reflection met her eyes. "You were speaking of a plan?"
     
    "Yes," Merry said, trying to gather her powers of persuasion. "Once I come into Grandmama's money,
    I want to breed Arabians. I'm sure I can make a go of it. You have to admit I have every qualification
    I could need."
     
    "Every qualification but one," said her mother. "As far as I know, you have yet to grow a penis."
     
    The shock of this blunt speech tied Merry's tongue. "I don't... I don't need a penis to ..."
     
    "Merry." Her mother silenced her spluttering retort. "Be reasonable. First of all, you won't receive that trust for ages. And second, what man would marry a woman who ran a stud?"
     
    "But I don't want to marry. That's what I've been saying all along."
     
    "You think you don't want to marry, but believe me—"
     
    Merry covered her face and fought a scream.
     
    "Believe me," her mother continued, "you'll feel differently when you're thirty and all alone."
     
    Merry sensed this was not the moment to mention her plan to have affairs. Being unmarried did not,
    after all, mean living like a nun. "I won't feel differently," was all she said as she let her hands drop to
    her sides. "I know you and Papa only want me to be happy, but I'm sure I wouldn't be happy as
    Ernest's wife."
     
    "Nonsense," her mother scoffed. "Ernest Althorp is a perfectly nice boy. And far from