Jack (The Jaded Gentlemen Book 4) Read Online Free PDF

shawl on top of the dress. “This remove to Sir Jack’s
    could be very advantageous, Madeline. Why are you so reluctant to go?”
    Because a new household meant teaching a whole new crop of footmen that Madeline would not be ogled, groped, disrespected, or underestimated. Because Sir
    Jack had as much as admitted he was at daggers drawn with his mother.
    “I consider Candlewick my home,” Madeline said, as a beaded reticule joined the pile on the bed. “The staff here are like family to me.
    At Sir Jack’s, I will be an intruder with airs above my station.”
    Abigail tossed a pair of cream slippers onto the heap of finery. “Your version of family consists of a pair of crotchety old women, and the staff
    here rely upon you to solve every difficulty and smooth all rough patches. That’s not the same as being your friends. Have you a watch?”
    “No.” Any jewelry in the Hennessey family had been sold ten years ago.
    “A lady’s companion needs a time-keeping device,” Abigail said, crossing to her vanity and opening a jewelry box. “This will
    do.”
    She pitched—pitched!—a golden brooch at Madeline that turned out to be a lady’s watch pin.
    “You must not do this,” Madeline said, though she didn’t dare throw the jewelry back. “I’m not a soldier marching into
    battle, that you should polish my weapons and stock my haversack. I’ll be back here by spring, and then what will I do with all of this, this…
    treasure?”
    Abigail’s look was pitying, before she mercifully returned to sorting through her jewelry. “These are cast-offs, Madeline Hennessey. I would
    have given them to you before—that’s one of the perquisites of being a lady’s maid—but you’d have sold them to support your
    elders. I am a scandalously wealthy woman, and you must resign yourself to enduring my whims. Thwart me, and I’ll take the matter to Mr.
    Belmont.”
    Madeline sat on the Belmonts’ enormous canopied bed, then realized what she’d done and bounced to her feet.
    “That’s not fair, ma’am. Mr. Belmont is ruthless when it comes to… well, he’s ruthless in defense of your whims. I’ll
    need a baggage wain to carry my effects to Sir Jack’s if you involve Mr. Belmont in this discussion.”
    Abigail’s smile was sweet. “So don’t force my hand. Take the clothing—though we’ll need to let out a few of the bodice
    seams—and wear it in good health. Sir Jack is wealthy too, you know.”
    Madeline busied herself folding the clothing scattered across the bed. Abigail had selected a half-dozen dresses, more than Madeline had owned since going
    into service at the age of fifteen. She picked up the maroon velvet, the feel of it making her heart sing.
    Once, all of her clothes had been this fine, when she’d been too young to realize her good fortune.
    “You have given up arguing with me,” Abigail said. “I’m not fooled, Madeline. You excel at the tactical retreat, which is half the
    reason Candlewick runs as well as it does. Cook and Mrs. Turnbull are fast friends because of you. Not every household enjoys such cooperation.”
    “Cook and Mrs. T have much in common,” Madeline said, folding the dress into a soft heap. “Sometimes, they need to be reminded of that.
    Not the earrings too, ma’am. I draw the line at fripperies.”
    Abigail remained before her, a pair of simple gold earrings and a thin gold bracelet in her palm.
    “A lack of vanity becomes you, Madeline, but a lack of sense does not. Take these.”
    “You sound like your husband.”
    “Take them, or you’ll be displaying this stubbornness for his entertainment.”
    Madeline held out her hand, and Abigail passed her the jewelry. The sunlight pouring through the window turned the plainest of adornments into luminous
    magic.
    “I’m grateful, ma’am. Don’t think I’m not.”
    Abigail was back at her vanity, sorting through the box that held her combs, hairpins, and ribbons.    
    “If you’re so grateful, Madeline,