No Choice but Surrender Read Online Free PDF Page A

at all the doors, and petticoats flurried as one of the housekeepers bustled over the proceedings. But at the north end of the room, a man stood as far away from the activity as he could. His back was turned to them, but Brienne could tell he was staring at a portrait of Oliver Morrow—a portrait she had wanted to burn on many occasions.
    The older gentleman took her arm and seemed to gather courage. He brought her down the long gallery, but she could feel his hand shake as they made their way. His nervousness was beginning to infect her, and she slowed as they came closer to the man.
    The first thing she noticed before the man turned around was his magnificent size. Not that he was fat; on the contrary, she knew instinctively that only hard muscle would be found underneath the man's expensive clothing. But he was tall, and his shoulders spanned the cloth of his blue-black silk brocade waistcoat almost to the point of splitting it. And his legs that fit so leanly into his breeches had no need for the pads that many men found useful.
    "Slane," her escort began in a shaky voice, "I have found the earl's daughter."
    The man continued to stare at the portrait. "Bring her to me. We've got our agreement. I trust you won't interfere."
    "She's here with me now, Slane." The older man let go of her arm and stepped back from her. Brienne felt her mouth grow dry; she dreaded the man's turning around.
    But the man did not turn around instantly. First he took his eyes from the portrait and bent his head as if he too feared to see her. Then he raised his dark head and faced her.
    The man who greeted her did not look like the monster she had expected. He was dark, and there was a cruel slant to his fine lips, but his features were aristocratic and well bred, from his chiseled nose to his high forehead. And then there were his eyes. They were like two blue diamonds shining out from thick black lashes. Their hardness was hidden temporarily by their brilliance, and she found them hypnotic.
    He seemed almost startled by her appearance, as if he found her as surprising as she found him. He stared at her for such a long time that she found her hands go once again to her elbows to hide the shabbiness of her dress. When he looked away for a brief second, she pulled at her bodice, hoping to present as neat an appearance as possible.
    "Cumberland, would you please see that we are left alone?" the man stated baldly.
    "Listen, Slane, I've—"
    "What is done is done, Cumberland!" He almost yelled at her escort; the man's rudeness angered her.
    Finding himself useless, Cumberland agreed to leave. Turning to her, he asked, "Will you be all right if I leave you two alone for the moment, my child?"
    She nodded and gave the man a warm smile. He was trying to look after her, and she appreciated it. The man could not have known that she had taken care of herself for a long time before coming to Osterley. And he could not know that worse fates surely lay before her when she would have to leave.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    "Sit down," the man said to her. When she did not comply, he eyed her judiciously. "Lady Brienne, if you insist on standing, then so must I. However, I prefer to sit while I drink my tea, so if you would be so kind?" He motioned to a large mahogany elbow seat that was covered in pea green silk damask.
    She sat down and waited for the housekeeper to bring them their tea. After she had poured out, the woman wheeled the cart near to them and left the gallery. They were completely alone now, and she was nervous.
    "I wasn't aware until recently that the earl had a daughter."
    "I do not socialize," she answered, trying very hard to hide her nervousness behind a facade of self-possession.
    "And why is that? Surely you have the means." The man's crystalline eyes fell to her bosom, and she found it very hard to meet them once they were raised.
    "But not the desire," she said. A blush crept up her throat.
    "Have you no thoughts of snaring a