Let It Be Love Read Online Free PDF

skated perilously close to scandal came to mind.
    “Not everything?” Oliver’s brow raised.
    “One cannot be a challenge and completely honest,” she said in a lofty manner. “I shouldn’t wish for him to know all my…secrets, as it were. Not that I have any particular secrets,” she added quickly, “although I suppose one could consider—”
    “That’s quite enough.” Oliver shuddered. “I have no desire to know anything more than is absolutely necessary. Simply give me your assurance that yoursecrets do not include anything that would preclude your being seen as a respectable match—”
    “Oliver!” She cast him an indignant glare. “How could you think such a thing?”
    “My apologies, cousin.” He had the good grace to look chagrined. “We haven’t seen each other for a very long time and, in truth, we do not really know one another at all. You have the manner and appearance of a woman who, well…” He shook his head in a wry manner. “I sincerely doubt that there are many men who would not risk scandal for you.”
    “I shall take that as a compliment.” She grinned, then sobered. “Including Jonathon Effington?”
    “Especially Jonathon Effington. You are precisely what he claims he wants in a wife. I shall be doing him a favor.” He chuckled. “Oh, this should be a great deal of fun.”
    “Fun is the last thing I need, Oliver.” Fiona sighed. “I need a husband.”
    And Jonathon Effington was not merely what she needed, he was exactly what she wanted.
    Two
    Four days later, at the Effington Christmas Ball…
    “Efficient as always, Henry.”
    Jonathon Effington slanted a glance at the butler, who, as he had done every year at this particular point during the Effington Christmas Ball, had stationed himself beside the Venetian mirror and console table that stood in a discreet alcove in the corridor that led to the Effington House library. And, just as he had every year, he bore a bottle of the house cellar’s finest champagne and two glasses.
    “Thank you, my lord,” Henry said coolly.
    Jonathon bit back a grin. Henry Mansfield was no more than a decade older than Jonathon himself and Jonathon was the lone member of the family to call him by his given name. Aside from that one deviation, long permitted and accepted by both men, Henry’s demeanor was polished and never anything less than perfect. Probably ran in his blood. He was at least the third Mansfield to serve as the Effington House butler, and thereby serve the Duke of Roxborough and family, succeeding to his position several years ago when his uncle, the previous butler and a Mansfield as well, had retired to a cottage in the country. Jonathon turned his attention back to his image. He had had an earlier meeting tonight in the library with the man he hoped would soon become his brother-in-law, but the assignation he was on his way to now was entirely different and much more pleasurable. He made a minor adjustment in the fold of his cravat.
    “What do you say, Henry, will I do?”
    “You are perfection itself, my lord,” Henry drawled.
    Jonathon laughed. Henry was never overtly sarcastic, yet Jonathon knew exactly what the butler’s tone now implied. The two men had known one another most of their lives. Indeed, in their younger years Henry had both assisted Jonathon in his various exploits and, on occasion, provided much-needed rescue.
    “Scarcely perfection, but acceptable, I should think.” Jonathon studied his reflection critically. He was not the handsomest among his friends, but he was not unattractive. In truth, he was quite pleased with his appearance. And women certainly didn’t seem to find him at all lacking. Why, they even liked the annoying way his thick brown hair insisted on flopping over his forehead instead of obediently staying put. He flashed a wicked grin at his image. And they did seem to adore his smile and the twinkle in his eye and the lone dimple in his cheek. Gad, he was undeniably a