Lady Drusilla's Road to Ruin Read Online Free PDF

a word of this to my husband, Hendricks. As if I have no other goal in life than to run hither and yon, propping up the outlandish falsehoods of people too foolish to predict their outcome.’ He stopped suddenly, as though just noticing that he was speaking the words aloud. Then he dropped his hands to his sides and examined her closely. ‘You are not about to cry, are you?’
    ‘Certainly not.’ She reached up and touched her own cheek to make sure. She was not normally given to bouts of tears, but it would be most embarrassing to succumb without warning.
    ‘That is good,’ he said. ‘I am not normally so transparent in my feelings. But it has been a trying week. And as you pointed out earlier, I am somewhat the worse for drink and ranting about things that are no fault of yours.’
    ‘But you are right in your displeasure,’ she allowed. ‘It was unfair of me to request your help in a situation you had no part in creating.’
    He sat down next to her suddenly. ‘I almost wish you were crying. I’d have been much more able to resist you had that been the case.’
    Resist me? She had hardly brought the force of her personality to bear on the man, other than the kick on the ankle. And although she was often described by men as formidable, it was usually said in a tone of annoyance, or occasionally awe. Though it meant nearly the same, it felt much nicer to be irresistible.
    He looked at her thoughtfully, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose as though trying to get a clear view of the situation before speaking again. Then he said, ‘Leaving London with no chaperon and no money was very foolish of you. But since I was equally foolish to leave the city drunk and on the wrong coach, I have no right to upbraid you.’
    Comparing the two situations, she could hardly call them equal. His was probably the worse. But he was the one with the fatter purse and she was in no position to make enemies. ‘Thank you,’ she said as mildly as possible.
    He frowned for a moment, as though trying to remember something, then added, ‘Did I mention earlier that I am currently without a position?’
    ‘No, you did not.’ Although why it should matter, she had no idea.
    ‘Then, my lady, I see a solution to both our problems.’ His previous insolence evaporated in a single sentence. In its place was a natural deference, with no hint of the obsequious servility she’d seen in some servants. ‘I have some experience in dealing with situations rather like yours. Until several days ago, I was personal secretary to the Earl of Folbroke.’
    That would explain it, then. He wasn’t a preacher or a teacher. He had been a confidential employee of a peer. ‘And under what circumstances did you leave this position?’ she asked, trying to decide where the conversation was likely to lead them.
    ‘Nothing that would prevent him from giving a positive reference, were he here now.’
    Drusilla was glad he was not. The room was hardly big enough for the two of them, without adding former employers into the mix.
    ‘I have letters to that effect,’ Mr Hendricks said.
    ‘Which are?’
    ‘In London.’
    ‘I see.’
    He removed his spectacles to polish them before continuing. ‘But that job gave me experience in dealing with the sort of delicate situations that sometimes occur in families such as yours.’
    Utterly mad ones, you mean. The way he’d been raving before, she was sure that he had interesting stories to tell, were he the sort of man to share confidences about his employers. Which he was not.
    ‘Handling matters with discretion is a personal strong point of mine,’ he confirmed, as though reading her mind. ‘And if you could ensure me of repayment when we return to London, a bit more for my troubles, and perhaps a letter of reference?’
    ‘More than that. My father will write the letter himself. And he will see to it that you are generously rewarded at the end of the affair.’
    Behind his glasses, Mr Hendricks’s