Lady Be Good Read Online Free PDF

bloomed again in her cheeks. She called up a lovely smile, which turned her blue eyes into cheerful half-moons. “Lord Palmer! Why, I hadn’t dreamed to be noticed by you. You are quite the most popular gentleman in the ballroom!”
    “Lucky that we’re not in the ballroom, then.” He spoke the words absently, surprised anew by the husky pitch of her voice. She was of average height and size; her voice, however, promised the ability to boom. It was rich enough to belong to a giantess in metal breastplate, with Viking horns atop her head. “I confess, I did not notice you there, Miss . . .”
    “But of course you didn’t,” she said warmly. “It’s my good luck to catch you alone. But how selfish it would be to hoard you!” As she started past him, she noddedtoward the direction of the ballroom, her fleeting touch along his arm—and her quick, flirtatious glance—suggesting her great desire that he follow.
    She was clever. He captured her hand before it could slip away. Without hesitation, she twirled around to face him, her train hissing in a broad arc across the marble floor. Her wide smile had not budged a fraction. “Yes, Lord Palmer?”
    He matched her light tone. “And once again, I feel my disadvantage. Must I beg your name from Mr. Everleigh?”
    Mention of her employer, whose study she had so recently infiltrated, made her flinch. She had not expected him to segue so quickly to threats.
    She glanced over her shoulder. The hallway was empty, of course, the strains of a waltz dim but distinct. Nobody would leave the ballroom until the next set.
    Seeing her plight—alone, quite alone—she redoubled the brilliance of her smile, then surprised him by stepping closer. “It’s terribly awkward.” What a magnificent voice she had! And how well she used it. Her hushed tone conjured intimacy, inviting him into a sweet little conspiracy. “I do hope that I can rely on your discretion.”
    He gave her a lopsided smile. “Well. You know what they say.”
    She looked up at him through thick dark lashes. He could no longer imagine how he’d mistaken her, however briefly, as servile. Between her voice and her oceanic eyes and her unflappable charm, she was a siren.
    Her measuring look also suggested a shrewd mind. She was not yet sure how much trouble she was in. He might simply be a blundering idiot. Or he might be a cad, who meant to press his advantage. She was still making up her mind.
    So was he. Blackmail was a precarious art, as likely to go wrong as to aid him. But her composure seemed promising. Only a trustworthy tool would serve his purposes.
    “No,” she said. “I don’t know what they say. Will you tell me?”
    He extended his elbow in an offer of escort. Her hand fluttered down, landing on his sleeve as lightly as a butterfly. “They say a man is only as good as his word,” he told her as they fell into step. “And I’ve been told by several sources that mine is irredeemably rotten.”
    Her laughter held a carefree lilt, very convincing. “But that’s nonsense,” she said. “You’re a great hero, Lord Palmer. Everyone has heard of your feats abroad.”
    Ah yes. His bloody, much-celebrated bravery.
    To prove her point, she began to recite the damned poem. “ ‘Who o’er yonder battlement, when enemy drums did pound—’ ”
    “Yes,” he interrupted. “I believe I’ve heard that one before.” Five thousand times or so. It did not improve with repetition.
    She was gazing at him brightly. “So then my point is proved: who would dare call you rotten?”
    Nobody called him rotten, of course. They begged for autographs instead. “Perhaps you will.”
    He felt the slight, nervous dance of her fingertips on his forearm. “I can’t imagine why.”
    They had been making very slow progress toward the ballroom. But now Christian drew her to a stop by the darkened stairwell. “Tell me,” he said. “I knew Everleigh was a man of particular tastes. Does he often require you to wait