Cloaked in Danger Read Online Free PDF

again.

Chapter Three
    Aria dropped her reticule and wrap on the table in the entryway of her home with an exhausted sigh. The sun had been flirting with the horizon when she’d walked in the front door, so she shouldn’t be surprised how much her feet ached.
    Her head pounded with exhaustion and her back was as tight as a saddle cinch from being pulled and prodded in wrong directions by dance partners with a decided lack of finesse. Why would anyone willingly choose to do this not once a year, but every night? “You’ve returned.”
    “Safe and sound.” Aria braced herself before facing her stepmother, ready for the inevitable argument.
    The pretty English Rose, as Aria’s father called his wife, was seven years older than Aria’s twenty and burgeoning with child. And not a day had gone by since Aria had been dumped in London that she and her stepmother had found even a small slice of common ground.
    “Lady Beasley fell asleep in the carriage,” Aria added, “so I had the driver leave straight away to deposit her home.”
    Emily’s hand rubbed gently over her belly. “Did you fare well tonight?”
    “I did not douse anyone with my punch or say something I shouldn’t or ruin my reputation.” Not a complete lie.
    “After every misstep, I receive calls the next day highlighting your escapades. I simply wish to be prepared for tomorrow’s litany.” Her stepmother’s soft tone was underscored by a thread of irritation. “You are bound to—”
    “Bound to make a disaster of things? Yes, so you’ve said.”
    “If your reputation is ruined, those invitations allowing you access to society events will cease.”
    “And what do I care?” Aria knew what was at stake, but she had grown weary of the refrain that she was but one wrongly uttered word from ruin.
    “Without the ton’s by-your-leave, you won’t be allowed in the same room with a person on that list.” She waved a hand in the direction of Aria’s reticule. “And you will have ruined my future, as well as your future brother or sister’s future in the process. You must take heed, and I need to know what damage to fix.”
    “And Lady Beasley was not here to give you the bald truth. She proved a fine chaperone, nonetheless.” In that she left Aria to her own devices. It had suited her perfectly.
    “I am tired and...for heaven’s sake, must we snipe at each other?” Emily ran a hand over her temple.
    Aria waited for the headache to be billed as her fault as well.
    “You do not understand this world. These are unforgiving people. One slight, one wrong step—”
    “And they will tie me in chains and throw me into the river. You’ve made it abundantly clear.”
    “Your father would not approve of your actions.”
    Anger flared in Aria’s gut. “My father would not want me to sit idly by, wasting my time on embroidery.” The words flew out like desperate birds, and Aria clamped her lips shut to keep any more from escaping. Emily was pregnant. Fragile. She liked embroidery. She loved her world.
    Emily’s hand flattened against her back, and she let out a sigh. “Did you meet any of them?”
    “Ravensdale. And the Lord of Merewood.” Aria’s stomach flipped in an altogether annoying way at the thought of him.
    “The Earl of Merewood, or Lord Merewood. Not the Lord of Merewood.”
    Aria stifled a curse she knew would bring back the long-suffering gleam in Emily’s eyes.
    Aria’s lack of patience regarding the usage of titles—did it have to be so blasted confusing?—had been a thorn in Emily’s side since she’d started tutoring Aria, an admittedly reluctant pupil, on how to behave like a proper society debutante.
    “Fine.” Aria shook her head. Over a year of sharing the same house, attempting to get along, had worn them both down. They had stopped trying months ago.
    And being locked in a room full of debutantes had addled her wits.
    She had been in close contact with two of the men on her list, and what had she done?
    Nothing.