Devil's Bride Read Online Free PDF

footsteps."
    "
Good God
!"
    Honoria ignored his tone. "I have it all
planned—my burning ambition is to ride a camel in the shadow of the Great
Sphinx. One would be ill-advised to undertake such an expedition too young;
governessing in a manner that requires spending only a year with each family
seemed the ideal way to fill in the years. As I need provide nothing beyond my
clothes, my capital grows while I visit various counties, staying in select
households. That last, of course, eases Michael's mind."
    "Ah, yes—your brother. What's he doing while you
fill in your years?"
    Honoria eyed her inquisitor measuringly. "Michael
is secretary to Lord Carlisle. Do you know him?"
    "Carlisle? Yes. His secretary, no. I take it your
brother has political ambitions?"
    "Lord Carlisle was a friend of Papa's—he's agreed
to stand as Michael's sponsor."
    His brows rose fleetingly, then he drained his mug.
"What made you decide on governessing as your temporary occupation?"
    Honoria shrugged. "What else was there? I'd been
well educated, prepared for presentation. Papa was adamant that I be presented
to the
ton
, puffed off with all the trimmings—paraded beneath my
grandfather's nose. He hoped I'd make a wonderful match, just to show
Grandfather no one else shared his antiquated notions."
    "But your parents were killed before you were
brought out?"
    Honoria nodded. "Lady Harwell, an old friend of
Mama's, had a daughter two years younger than I. After putting off black gloves,
I broached my idea to her—I thought with my background, my preparation, I could
teach other girls how to go on. Lady Harwell agreed to a trial. After I
finished coaching Miranda, she landed an earl. After that, of course, I never
wanted for positions."
    "The matchmaking mama's delight." An
undercurrent of cynicism had crept into the deep voice. "And who are you
coaching around Somersham?"
    The question returned Honoria to reality with a thump.
"Melissa Claypole."
    Her rescuer frowned. "Is she the dark one or the
fair one?"
    "The fair one." Propping her chin in her
hand, Honoria gazed into the flames. "An insipid miss with no
conversation—God knows how I'm supposed to render her attractive. I was booked
to go to Lady Oxley but her six-year old caught chicken pox, and then old Lady
Oxley died. I'd declined all my other offers by then, but the Claypoles' letter
arrived late, and I hadn't yet replied. So I accepted without doing my usual
checks."
    "Checks?"
    "I don't work for just anyone." Stifling a
yawn, Honoria settled more comfortably. "I make sure the family is good
ton
,
well connected enough to get the right invitations and sufficiently beforehand
not to make a fuss over the milliner's bills."
    "Not to mention those from the modistes."
    "Precisely. Well"—she gestured
briefly—"no girl is going to snare a duke if she dresses like a
dowd."
    "Indubitably. Am I to understand the Claypoles
fail to meet your stringent requirements?"
    Honoria frowned. "I've only been with them since
Sunday, but I've a nasty suspicion…" She let her words trail away, then
shrugged. "Luckily, it appears Melissa is all but spoken for—by a duke, no
less."
    A pause followed, then her rescuer prompted: "A
duke?"
    "So it seems. If you live about here you must
know of him—sober, reserved, rather reclusive, I think. Already tangled in Lady
Claypole's web, if her ladyship speaks true." Recollecting her burning
question, Honoria twisted around. "Do you know him?"
    Clear green eyes blinked back at her; slowly, her
rescuer shook his head. "I can't say I've had the pleasure."
    "Humph!" Honoria sank back in her chair.
"I'm beginning to think he's a hermit. Are you sure—"
    But he was no longer listening to her. Then she heard
what had caught his attention—the rattly breathing of the wounded youth. The
next instant, he was striding back to the bed. He sat on the edge, taking one
of the youth's hands in his. From the chair, Honoria listened as the youth's
breathing grew more ragged, more