Minx Read Online Free PDF Page B

had decided, an unusual young woman. She had flouted convention enough already; how much difference would a lover make?
    "Oh, no. Billy married a girl from Devon and moved away. I say, you're not asking me all these questions just to be polite, are you?"
    "Absolutely not." He grinned devilishly. "Of course I do hope I'm being polite nonetheless, but I really am quite interested in you." And he was. Dunford had always been interested in people, had always wondered what made the human race tick. At his home in London, he often stared out the window for hours, just watching the people go by. And at parties he was a brilliant conversationalist, not because he tried to be, but because he was usually genuinely interested in what people had to say. It was part of the reason why so many women had fallen for him.
    It was, after all, somewhat uncommon for a man to actually listen to what a woman had to say.
    And Henry certainly wasn't immune to his charms. It was true that men did listen to her every day, but they were people who worked for Stannage Park, in effect worked for her. No one besides Mrs. Simpson ever took the time to ask after her. Slightly flustered by Dunford's interest, she hid her unease by adopting her usual cheeky attitude. "And what about you, my lord? Did you have an unusual upbringing?"
    "As normal as could be, I'm afraid. Although my mother and father were actually somewhat fond of each other, which is rather unusual among the ton, but other than that, I was a typical British child."
    "Oh, I doubt that."
    "Really?" He leaned forward. "And why is that, Miss Henrietta?"
    She took another healthy sip of her wine. "Please do not call me Henrietta. I detest the name."
    "But I'm afraid that every time I call you Henry, it brings to mind a rather unpleasant school chum at Eton."
    She shot him a jaunty grin. "I'm afraid that you'll just have to adjust."
    "You have been giving orders for too long."
    "Perhaps, but you obviously have not been accepting them for long enough."
    "Touché, Henry. And don't think I haven't noticed that you managed to sidestep explaining why you doubt I had a typical upbringing."
    Henry pursed her lips and looked down at her wineglass which, paradoxically, was still quite full. She could have sworn she'd drunk at least two glasses. She took another sip. "Well, you're not exactly a typical man."
    "Is that so?"
    "Indeed." She waved her fork in the air for emphasis before drinking a bit more wine.
    "And how am I atypical?"
    Henry chewed on her lower lip, dimly aware that she had just been cornered. "Well, you're quite friendly."
    "And most Englishmen aren't?"
    "Not to me."
    His lips curved wryly. "They obviously don't know what they are missing."
    "I say," she said, narrowing her eyes, "you aren't being sarcastic, are you?"
    "Believe me, Henry, I have never been less sarcastic. You are quite the most interesting person I've met in months."
    She scanned his face for signs of duplicity but found none. "I believe you mean it."
    He bit back another smile, silently regarding the woman sitting across from him. Her expression was a delightful combination of arrogance and concern, slightly clouded by tipsiness. She was waving her fork in the air as she spoke, seemingly oblivious to the morsel of pheasant dangling perilously off the end. "Why aren't men friendly to you?" he asked softly.
    Henry wondered why it was so easy to talk to this man, whether it was the wine or just him. Either way, she decided, the wine couldn't hurt. She took another sip. "I think they think I'm a freak," she finally said.
    Dunford paused at her bald honesty. "You're certainly not that. You just need someone to teach you how to be a woman."
    "Oh, I know how to be a woman. I'm just not the kind of woman men want."
    Her speech was risqué enough to make him cough on his food. Reminding himself that she had no idea what she was saying, he swallowed and murmured, "I'm sure you're exaggerating."
    "I'm sure you're lying. You yourself just