Every Scandalous Secret Read Online Free PDF

hobby, always made him long to escape.
    And he did so now, turning his back, knowing he would have to find another time to get Susanna Leland alone.
    S usanna moved through the rest of the day in a happy glow. Her art was the one commonality she had with other ladies, and it gave her great pleasure to discuss it in such depth. She saw their respect for her growing, and much as she usually didn’t care about such things, today it felt . . . good.
    And it could only help her if others were speaking about her in a complimentary way to the men.
    Mr. Wade stayed out of her way, at least until dinner. The rain had begun in the late afternoon, and by the evening, the house felt warm and muggy, with all the doors and windows closed. The ladies fanned themselves after dinner, and more than one man tugged at his cravat.
    Usually, Susanna would have sat by herself with a book, earning her mother’s disapproving frown. It was simply . . . easier, for she never knew what to say—especially to men. But that had to change. Marshaling her courage to speak to the bachelors, she started off with Mr. Evans, increasing her pace to reach him just as Mr. Wade came toward her.
    Mr. Evans’s eyes widened as she skidded to a stop beside him. “Good evening, Miss Leland,” he said.
    She thought he was hiding a smile at her behavior; but if he believed her eager to converse with him, it could only help. “Good evening, Mr. Evans. I was so pleased to see you here when I arrived. It seems we seldom have a moment together at Madingley Court.”
    Mr. Wade began a circuit about the room, watching her, even as he was called over by various guests.
    “I have not attended festivities as much as I used to,” Mr. Evans was saying. “My estate has required most of my attention.”
    She wondered if that also had something to do with embarrassment because he’d courted her brother Matthew’s widow only to discover Matthew wasn’t really dead.
    “That is very dedicated of you, Mr. Evans,” she said, telling herself she could admire such a man.
    A strained silence fell between them. She hated talking about the weather—the most mundane but somehow obligatory of topics—but would resort to it if necessary, especially since Mr. Wade seemed to be laughing at her.
    She turned her back on him. “What do your fields produce, Mr. Evans?”
    He seemed relieved to launch into the details of grain and drought, and she listened with an interest she didn’t have to feign. She liked hearing about people’s passions, even if they weren’t her own. It was simply that most of Society preferred to discuss—Society: gossip, balls, and who was at whose dinner. She didn’t care about those things, and her lack of suitable response always sent people hurrying away as quickly as they could.
    When his words at last trailed off, she expected him to reciprocate, to ask something about her, but instead, he glanced at his watch on its chain absently.
    She was boring him, and she’d barely said a word. But she’d always been told a man liked talking about himself.
    And there was Mr. Wade, arms spread on the back of a sofa, Lady May and Miss Randolph sitting on either side of him as if tucked beneath his wings. They looked at him with an awe that their hovering parents didn’t appreciate if the frowns exchanged between husbands and wives were any indication.
    Mr. Evans tugged at his cravat.
    “It’s a bit warm tonight,” Susanna said, cursing herself for falling back on the weather. “But I imagine your crops will appreciate the rain.”
    “Yes.”
    Perhaps he thought he knew everything about her—perhaps every man did. She was different, removed from the ordinary, little caring about gossip. And she’d always liked it that way.
    Until her brother had made her see that even though she’d always have a place to live, she’d be forever on the outside of his small family, or Rebecca’s, once they all started having children.
    “Do you like children, Mr.