Countess of Scandal Read Online Free PDF

fields he had dreamed of on sun-blasted tropical days, teetered on the edge of blood-soaked oblivion. Could Eliza really be part of it?
    He feared she very well could. Eliza was a girl no longer. She was a widow, a rich one, who was free to indulge her passions. One of those passions could be that idea of Ireland. She had never done things halfheartedly; she always threw herself fully into any cause she chose, no matter how misguided and dangerous.
    His time in the city was short. His regiment had been sent to Ireland to quell any unrest, and soon they would be sent to Kildare and then to points north, where there were already rumors of fighting. He had to make Eliza listen, to make her see the foolishness of any rebellious path she might be on. He had left her all those years ago and had not tried hard enough to persuade her to see that he did right in joining the army.
    But, by Jove, she would listen now! For the sake of that old friendship, her family, her own life, he had to persuade her. No matter what it took.
    Resolute, he turned back toward the assembly rooms. As he strode to the half-open doors, a ray of candlelight fell on a shimmering object discarded on the stone floor. It was a fen, its carved ivory sticks spread open to reveal delicate lilac silk.
    The exact color of Eliza's gown. Will knelt down to scoop it up, balancing the delicate bauble on his sun-roughened hand. A faint whiff of Eliza's rosewater perfume drifted from the folds.
    Well, well. Surely she would soon be missing such a pretty trifle. It would be only polite to return it Eliza shut the cellar door behind her, listening for the grate of the lock turning before she made her way back up the stairs. She was exhausted after the party and her long talk with Mr. O'Connor. Her steps felt leaden in their satin slippers as she hurried up to her own chamber; her gown surely weighed a hundred pounds now. And she still had letters to write before she could at last crawl into bed and pray for sleep!
    Yet, Eliza well knew it was not just the dancing, and the letters that preyed on her mind. It was not even the man hidden in her cellar. No, it was quite another man altogether. Will Denton.
    She pressed her. hand to her whirling, aching head. She had thought never to see him again, and to find him suddenly there before her was... dizzying.
    The years away, long years across the sea in foreign lands, had obviously honed and hardened him. He was even more handsome than in her cherished memories, with a whipcord strength barely hidden by his dashing red coat. But the kindness she remembered in his blue-green eyes, that warm light of understanding and laughter, was quite gone. He stared at her with a hard determination to discover all her secrets. As if he knew what she was doing and would put a stop to it, however he could.
    Treason is a deadly game to play, she remembered him saying.
    Once, she had fancied she could love him. Now he was one more obstacle to overcome. Perhaps the most formidable obstacle of all. If only she could overcome her own lust for him, too!
    Eliza paused outside Anna's room, where all was silent. Her sister had a propensity to stay up all hours reading novels, but hopefully all the dancing and card-playing tonight had worn her out at last Eliza sighed and continued down the corridor to her own chamber. She did love Anna, but she would be glad to send her back to their mother's care after Christmas. Truly, Eliza was only one woman— she could either write revolutionary pamphlets or watch after a willful teenaged girl. Not, it seemed, both.
    "Did you have a good evening, my lady?" her maid, Mary said as Eliza entered her own room at last
    "Yes, thank you, Mary," she answered. "The assembly rooms are so lively at this time of year." She breathed in deeply with relief as Mary unfastened her heavy jewels and the elaborate gown. Those fashionable trappings always felt like a mask, a confining disguise. Surely she could think more clearly when they