Mastering the Marquess Read Online Free PDF

her attention, “I would take it as a great favor if you would refrain from insulting my uncle any further.”
    â€œBut . . . ,” she began to protest.
    â€œNo, Miss Burnley,” he said in a quietly lethal voice.
    She glared at him, but he simply returned her torrid gaze with a cool and steady regard. Somewhat to his surprise, she gave a stiff nod and dropped her eyes. She sat with her back ramrod straight, staring at the floor as she struggled to rein in her temper.
    Silverton turned to his uncle and lifted an eyebrow. The general was muttering to himself again but did not seem inclined to launch back into the fray.
    â€œThank you,” Silverton responded to no one in particular.
    Now that he had established a fragile peace, he took a moment to study the two angry faces before him. The thought crossed his mind that Miss Burnley and his uncle were remarkably alike. How odd that they weren’t even related, Silverton reflected. They might have been taken for father and daughter.
    He shook his head, crossing to the mahogany sideboard to pour himself a glass of port. Robert sidled up to him and hissed in his ear, “Damn it, Stephen, what do we do now?”
    As Silverton pondered the answer to that question, the door to the library opened behind him.
    â€œMy goodness!” exclaimed a gentle, feminine voice. “What is happening in here? Arthur, what are you yelling about now?”
    Silverton repressed the inclination to roll his eyes up to the ceiling. God only knew how his Aunt Georgina would react to the unexpected resurrection of the Great Family Scandal.

Chapter Two
    Meredith almost collapsed with relief as she followed Lady Stanton from the library. Her legs were shaking so badly she wondered if she could walk at all.
    She had been so angry with the general she’d been tempted to slap him. That was mortifying enough, but her response to Lord Silverton had been even more appalling. One kind word from him and she’d practically melted into a sticky puddle at his feet.
    Never in her life had she reacted that way to a man, and Meredith had the awful impression he’d sensed exactly how she felt. Even worse, she suspected he’d found the entire horrid scene more annoying than anything else. She groaned inwardly, recalling the arrogant arch of his brows when he’d practically ordered her to tell him about Annabel. Having to reveal her darkest family secrets to a man like him made her want to crawl into a closet and never come out.
    Lord Silverton was, quite simply, the most perfect man she had ever seen in her life. When Meredith had stormed into the library, she hadn’t noticed anyone but the general, so intent was she on her mission. But then she turned and saw him and thought she had stepped into a fairy tale or an ancient legend. Her overactive imagination had decided on the spot that the golden-haired man looked exactly like a valiant knight of old.
    He was tall, broad shouldered, and had the powerful physique of a sportsman. But it was his classically handsome face that had stopped her in her tracks. Her artistic sensibilities had compelled her to mentally trace the sharply defined cheekbones, aquiline nose, firm mouth, and strong chin. His eyes were incredibly blue—cobalt set against the faint bronze of his tanned complexion. His thick, wheat-colored hair had reflected the sunlight shafting through the library windows, brushed back from a widow’s peak before falling in soft waves to his collar.
    And although she had been too upset to notice many details of his attire, she had been aware that he carried himself with a masculine power and grace she had never encountered before.
    Most disturbing of all, when he had finally allowed himself to smile, her knees had actually wobbled.
    Meredith shrugged her shoulders impatiently, irritated by her own foolishness. Then again, she reflected, perhaps it was the strain of the last few weeks that had made her so