His Secret Heroine Read Online Free PDF Page A

Lord Vilheurs and helped herself to dainty biscuits and a glass of ratafia. Lord Vilheurs leaned close, his dark eyes gleaming. Chloe steeled herself to the discomfort of his hot breath on her neck, but could not stop herself from shifting ever so slightly away from him.
    Lord Reginald leaned against the gunwale, his jaw set grimly as he watched. Demurely, Chloe applied her gaze to the plaid weave of the Welsh shawl, and attempted not to notice that Lord Vilheurs was again leaning closer to her ear than she found comfortable.
    "What an annoying fribble he is," said Lord Vilheurs in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
    Chloe jerked back, astonished. "I beg your pardon?"
    The man's lips formed a narrow smile. "To think, he fancies himself a common sailor. Amusing, do you not think?"
    "Indeed?" Chloe set down her biscuit and picked up her fan.
    Chloe watched his sneer, noticing for the first time the dark hairs that protruded from his nose like a stiff brush.
    "A proper gentleman does not dabble in such common pursuits," said Vilheurs, and again disdain flared his nose.
    "Really." She raised her open fan to her face to hide her irritation. "What do you dabble in, Lord Vilheurs?"
    Lord Vilheurs opened his mouth, then quickly shut it.
    Chloe gritted her teeth. She was not good at all at being demure even though she knew full well no man wanted a bold hoyden for a bride. Yet if she let Lord Vilheurs glue himself to her side, Lord Reginald would form entirely the wrong idea.
    That would not do.
    She stood, a bit too abruptly, and graced the man by her side with the best smile she could summon up.
    "I fear I am neglecting our host," she said, and strolled across the deck, where she scanned over the ripples. To her dismay, Lord Vilheurs hopped up and followed.
    Abruptly, she swept around and fixed a bold gaze directly at Lord Reginald's bright blue eyes in a blatant plea for rescue. In two strides, Lord Reginald reached her, taking her arm. "For shame, Villy," he said, with a grin that was clearly beyond what a proper gentleman might show. "You have monopolized our Miss Englefield from the moment she came aboard. As forward as begging the third dance, don't you think?"
    Vilheurs turned dark eyes on him like swords to run him through, but Lord Reginald chuckled and deftly directed Chloe's attention to a huge square-rigger that dwarfed the Xanthe .
    "The Nahoo ," he said, pointing. "Just in from Ceylon. Headed for the East India Docks."
    "How is it you know so much about ships, Lord Reginald?" Her pulse thrummed at the touch of his hand at her arm.
    "I love ships. As a young boy, I wanted to go to sea, before I understood only cits and salts did that."
    She cocked her head at the odd admission, and he hesitated, as he awaited a sneer from her.
    She smiled instead. "But you might have joined the Navy."
    He shook his head. "My older brother sank my chances when he outraged my father by taking his pair of colors in the Guards. But someday I shall sail somewhere, just for the adventure."
    Chloe watched the ever-widening channel as the light breeze caressed her face. What would it be like to sail away with him?
    "Have you ever wished for an adventure, Miss Englefield?"
    She froze. Had he guessed her secrets?
    "It has been done, you know," he said. "Women going to sea in the guise of men."
    She gulped. She should never have looked at him so boldly.
    "Truly," he said. "Though I must confess I am at a loss to comprehend why a woman would leave a comfortable home for the rigors and dangers of the sea."
    She trained her eyes once again along the ripples that were growing choppy as the wind freshened. She knew the answer too well to say aloud, yet something in his intensity made her want to answer. "Perhaps if you asked, she would tell you it had not been all that comfortable."
    "Indeed. Why might that be?"
    "A woman does not have a man's opportunities, Lord Reginald. If her mother were invalid, if her father abused her, or perhaps if she had