Let It Be Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

good-looking devil.
    “Passionless, my ass,” he said under his breath.
    Henry’s brow quivered slightly. “I beg your pardon, my lord?”
    “Nothing, Henry, just thinking aloud.” Jonathon’s smile faded and he stared at the face in the mirror. He would not have admitted it to his friends, but their charge last week as to the lack of passion in his relationships had dwelled in the back of his mind. He’d tried to ignore it, brush it off as the absurd notion that it was, yet it had lingered still like a melody that repeats over and over and can easily drive one mad.
    He did concede, if only to himself, that perhaps they were not entirely wrong, although certainly hehad been in love on occasion. Any number of times. It was simply not the kind of love, the kind of grand passion, as it were, that would lead one to behave in a ridiculous manner or to make promises one had no intention of keeping. Upon reflection, he had never led a woman to believe he offered more than he had. If his relations with women were somewhat superficial, well, it had served him and whatever lady was the object of his attentions at the moment nicely. And partings had always been amicable. It was not a bad way to live one’s life. Jonathon had no doubt that when the right woman made her appearance the passion his friends claimed he had never experienced would follow. Not tonight, however. This evening his annual liaison in the library was with the exquisite Lady Chester. Judith was a petite blond-haired, blue-eyed widow with a delightful and well-earned reputation for savoring the amusements life offered and absolutely no de sire for remarriage. He chuckled to himself. It would not be the first time he and Judith had shared a private evening, nor, he suspected, would it be the last. Still, one never knew what to expect with Judith, and it was Christmas Eve. Jonathon accepted the glasses Henry offered in one hand, took the bottle in the other, then started toward the library. He took two steps, then glanced back at the butler and raised a brow. “Well?”
    “Well, what, my lord?” Henry’s impassive expression did not flicker.
    “Advice, Henry, words of wisdom. Your traditional Christmas Eve soliloquy.”
    “I would not term it a soliloquy.” Henry’s voice did not waver, but a distinct gleam of amusement shone in his eye.
    “Yet it is as much a tradition as the Effington Christmas Ball itself or the way my mother will find ever larger trees to decorate every year or…” Jonathon’s grin widened and he glanced pointedly down the corridor toward the library.
    “That is indeed a tradition,” Henry said mildly. And who would know better than he?
    When Jonathon had had his first tryst in the library during the Christmas Ball, he had been all of seventeen and Henry was merely a footman. Still, he had managed to procure the necessary wine and glasses and had offered as well a few words of advice on dealings with the fairer sex from the vantage point of an older man’s experience.
    “Very well.” The butler’s clear gaze met Jonathon’s. “Do take care, my lord. Remember that women are fickle creatures and prone to read more into a gentleman’s words and actions than he might intend.”
    Henry delivered precisely the same words and in precisely the same tone as he did every year. “Do not lose your head. Do resist overly compromising positions, lest an uninvited guest stumble upon”—he cleared his throat—“your assignation.”
    “Thank you, Henry. I am now fully prepared.” Jonathon grinned, again started for the library, then paused. “Henry, have you ever been in love?”
    “In love?” Henry shook his head. “Not yet, my lord, but I have not ruled out the possibility in the future.”
    “Nor have I.”
    For a moment, Henry’s customary aplomb faltered. “Sir, am I to understand Lady Chester—”
    “Good God, no,” Jonathon said quickly. “Not that she’s not a charming woman and I am exceedingly fond of her, but