Once Upon a Rake Read Online Free PDF Page B

scar likely worked in his favour, garnering many a
sympathetic touch from ladies. She wished her mama had told her the accident
had scarred him though. It had taken her by surprise.
    “Well, I did not read your
letters so you shall have to tell me yourself.”
    Eleanor smiled her thanks to
the maid who poured the tea in front of her and desperately hoped Lucian would
sit on one of the pale blue chairs in the centre of the room. He was some
distance from her, with his hands clasped behind his back, yet having him
standing made her stomach churn with apprehension. She would feel much more
confident if he would but sit.
    Maybe he found her
repellent. He had made that clear once before. She tried her hardest to be
beautiful. Copious amounts of sunshine and lemon juice had improved her hair
and complexion, but what was a woman to do about one’s features? That might
explain his eagerness to keep his distance.
    Filling her lungs, she
ignored the tea on the gilded table and secured her gaze on the portrait of the
late viscount. She had visited Balmead Manor many times during her childhood
and nothing had changed. Strange, for she had always expected Lucian to
modernise the old house almost as soon as he’d inherited the title, but it
seemed he had done nothing to it yet.
    “I wish to speak of my
shares in your mill in Lancashire. As you may have heard, my late husband
signed over his un-entailed estates and fortune to me. That included any
business arrangements and stocks.” Eleanor clenched her hands together, aware
of the slight tremble in them. “Lord Rushbourne, I wish to have a hand in the
mill.”
    He stared at her for several
long moments, his lashes lowering and lifting quickly in surprise. A short
burst of laughter came from him and she felt heat surge into her cheeks.
    “Forgive me. You wish to
come and work for me? Operate the machinery perhaps?”
    “No! In the running of it, I
mean.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous.”
    The words were sharp and
quick, like a gunshot. Suddenly, she was seventeen again and being told her girlish
dreams were ludicrous and no man like Lucian could ever want her. Or she was
nine and her governess, Miss Pettigrew, was scolding her for staring out the
window and dreaming of great adventures. The tired voice of her governess ran
through her head. Well-bred girls did not run off on adventures and why could
she not be more refined? Why did she have to be so awkward? Miss Pettigrew was
sure she would never marry well, she had warned Eleanor’s mother, for who would
want to marry such an uncouth girl?
    “I have no intention of
interfering as such but my lawyers tell me the mill’s profits are dropping and
I should like to come and see it for myself.”
    He strode over and paused by
the chair opposite. Eleanor had to lift her chin to view him. His lips had twisted
and his handsome features grew bitter. “You have come to laud it over me, I
suppose. Here you are, a wealthy, beautiful countess, and here I am, a mere
viscount with a failing business. You have seen exotic creatures and far off
lands, while I have been fighting to save what’s left of my father’s legacy. I
breathe in the thick smoke of Caldton, while you enjoy the fresh air of Paris or some other far flung place that no one in their right mind would want to
visit.”
    The verbal attack might have
sent her reeling had it not been for the plush cushions supporting her back.
Such anger. Where did it come from? She didn’t think she had said or done
anything offensive. Was it so far-fetched that someone whose money was tied up
in a business should want to see that it was being invested well? Would he even
be questioning such a demand if she were a man?
    And he had called her
beautiful.
    Eleanor quickly shoved that
aside. She was not beautiful. All the make-up and fine clothing in the world
could not change that. Acceptable, yes, maybe even interesting to look at in
certain lights and outfits, but beautiful? No.
    “I certainly