His Silken Seduction Read Online Free PDF Page A

Marguerite’s trunk. She was glad she had asked for Guillaume’s help with that. Although he said little, his company was comforting.
    She piled the last of the parcels into his arms. “Take these upstairs, please, Guillaume, and stack them behind the door. I will lay them out properly when I have finished with the accounts.”
    “I shall need the storeroom key.”
    Suzanne picked up the bunch of keys from the office desk, removed the one for the little door on the landing and dropped it into Guillaume’s pocket. “Try not to make too much noise, please. Remember there is only a thin partition between the silk store and Marguerite’s chamber. Our…guest may be trying to sleep.”
    “As you say, mistress.” Guillaume left, carrying his load. Was he going to heed her instructions? There was no way of knowing.
    Suzanne sat down behind the desk and tried to concentrate on the column of figures she had been adding up. Guillaume would be in the silk store by now, just a few feet from where Benn lay. If she had taken the silk upstairs herself, instead of sending the old manservant, she could have unlocked the connecting door between the silk store and Benn’s room. She could have gazed at his beautiful sleeping body. If he were awake, she could even have spoken to him. She could have…
    Spoken to him? What on earth could she have said? Pray, sir, what did you mean when you said you would never abandon me? And how long is “never”?
    She threw down her pen. Whatever Benn had meant by those hasty words, it certainly would not include either love or marriage. Had he perhaps been thinking of the danger they were all in and of the debt he owed to the Grolier sisters for sheltering two English spies? Once Bonaparte was finally defeated…for that blessed day would surely come…there would no longer be any need for protection. The English spies would return to their comfortable life. And the Grolier sisters would return to their daily grind at the loom.
    She stared down at her desk. Even the simple figures in her ledger seemed to be tinged with gloom, as if a fine grey gauze had been thrown over everything. The future that stretched before her was far from appealing. She knew she would probably end her days as a worn-out old spinster who had never known the joys of marriage and children, a dried-up husk who had never been loved.
    Your future is your own to decide, Suzanne.
    Her inner voice was back. And at the most inconvenient time. She did not wish to be reminded of all that she had lost.
    Marriage and children may not be for you to decide, but love can be sought and found in other ways. Your future lies in your own hands.
    Suzanne jumped to her feet and began to pace. She allowed herself the indulgence of a few choice curses, though only under her breath. They helped to drown out the sound of that inner voice. It was tormenting her, sketching a tantalizing vision of things she could never have. Still, one thing was true. She was mistress of her own life. And although the Groliers had lost land and status in the Revolution, they had not lost everything. Unlike some, Suzanne had not been reduced to abject poverty. She knew she had much to be thankful for. She might have been forced into menial service…or worse.
    She took a deep breath and smiled round at the silent room. It was functional, but comfortable. In Marguerite’s absence, Suzanne ruled here. She could make her own decisions. She would choose to ignore Benn’s strange promise. Since he would be with her for only a few days more, she would live every second of the time they had left. To the full.
    Once he was gone from her, she would have only memories. She was free to choose to make those memories the sweetest they could possibly be. And she would. She would show him a smiling face and a glad heart, and she would live for the moment, no matter what he said or what he did.
    Still smiling, she sat down once more and picked up her pen. In her new and composed state