Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman Read Online Free PDF Page B

soft kerseymere gown in lavender suitable for a widow in mourning, she held the garment up in front of her. At least this gown had a stylish neckline embroidered with rosettes and a double flounced hem. With a sigh, she glanced at the borrowed corset she’d been forced to abandon. Because of Lord Gladrey’s harsh stance against her, she had no maid to assist with her toilette.
    The maid only serves the children, she mimicked under her breath. She resented the need to flout convention by appearing without a corset, something a proper lady would never do, but she couldn’t lace such a garment without help.
    The gown alone did little to push up and display her bosom or nip her in at the waist. Playing the role of a barely tolerated, indigent relative diminished her worth, and the discovery of a pair of white, silk stockings among the clothing did nothing to alleviate her feelings of ill usage.
    Arranging her hair pulled back in a demure style suited her mood. Laurel wasn’t satisfied with the effect, but on short notice this was the best she could do. Exiting the chamber, she squared her shoulders and picked up her skirts to descend the stairs. It was time to face the enemy.
    Lord Gladrey met her at the bottom of the steps and surveyed her from the crown of her head to the hem of her gown. “Not so very different from your dull, rain soaked garments.”
    “A dowd to be sure,” she acknowledged. Her lips curved upward in a mocking smile and she elevated her chin.
    “Come, let us join the others.” He hesitated, poised to comment further, but said nothing further about her appearance.
    Laurel stepped forward and placed her fingers on his extended arm. For the first time, she was aware of him as a man, a strong, capable man, not merely the enemy. Male trumpeting to female and suddenly, with every feminine part of her being, she longed for him to look on her with favor instead of disdain. She took a deep breath, inhaling his spicy scent and followed him into the drawing room.
    Facing the family en mass was somewhat daunting. As unobtrusively as possible, she studied the assembled group starting with the elderly lady seated on one of the four ivory-brocade sofas. Her deep purple gown, draped with a paisley shawl, reminded Laurel of the garments offered to her earlier. This must be Lord Gladrey’s grandmother. Laurel hoped when she reached that advanced age, her white hair would be as thick and lovely as his grandmother’s. Her features were still stamped with traces of past beauty, displayed in her sparkling brown eyes, much like Lord Gladrey’s.
    Laurel allowed her gaze to drift around the room, touching the light cream walls and moving to the tall window hangings that matched the sofas. The fireplace surround of white marble, the wingback chairs in the same light fabric as the sofas, plus the darker cream tables scattered about the space, gave a sterile quality to the room. No doubt Lord Gladrey had selected the whole—stern, stark décor—intimidating like the master.
    Lord Gladrey drew her forward. “Lady Heloise Gladrey is my grandmother.” He glanced at Laurel. “And this lovely lady is her god-daughter, Miss Melissa Rainy.”
    Melissa’s big hazel eyes stared at Laurel and she finally inclined her head slightly in recognition of the introduction. Laurel returned her regard, surveying Melissa’s light golden-brown hair done in the latest fashion above a lovely face with a pert nose and a rosebud mouth. A yellow silk gown completed her youthful perfection, but the cool disdain in Melissa’s gaze spoiled the picture.
    Melissa lost all pretense of interest in Laurel and pouted up at Lord Gladrey. “I can hardly believe you missed our morning ride with silly old business,” she scolded.
    He grinned down at her. “Your distress is noted. No doubt Edmond accompanied you.”
    “True, but a mere secretary is hardly worth mentioning and besides he wasn’t you.”
    “Don’t be uppity. Edmond serves me well.”