One Whisper Away Read Online Free PDF

desire to marry a heathen in America. And always, always, in her mind was how her mother had not been the love of his life but second-best, the match arranged by their families upon his return to England after the death of his first wife, Jonathan’s mother.
    It was a hard task to come to terms with the fact that her mother and father had never loved each other. She hadn’t ever quite mastered it. It was ironic to realize that it had always bothered Lily far more than it bothered her mother, who had enjoyed her role as countess and freely spent her husband’s fortune.
    They were both gone now, dead within days of each other from the same virulent fever, and she and her sisters were utterly dependent on this half brother that none of them knew. In her memory, Jonathan had come to England only once. Their father had preferred to visit his son in America.
    She resented her brother for that too. Those long absences had been difficult. Though her mother hadn’t seemed to care overmuch, Lily had missed her beloved father terribly as a child.
    Along those same lines, Jonathan had blithely brought his bastard along, as if it wasn’t going to stir up scandal. The man clearly had no sense of propriety.
    At the moment, though, she’d already spoken up, so there was no use for it but to brazen it out. She cleared her throat. “You are the subject of much gossip, my lord.”
    As if she had the right to condemn him. Her sordid mistake had kept the gossip sheets full for weeks, maybe even months.
    He had the nerve to look amused. “Am I?”
    “Indeed.”
    There. It was said. His past indiscretion aside, she didn’t have to point out how he’d been seen publicly touching the bosom of the Duke of Eddington’s daughter. What good would that do? It was enough to level an accusing stare in his direction and wait.
    After all, she was not in charge. He was.
    A damnable truth.
    They looked nothing alike. He was dark—in every way. Dark hair, dark eyes, bronze skin. Handsome . . . she supposed he was, with their father’s fine bones and his mother’s barbaric coloring. Tall, wide-shouldered, with his hair currently constrained neatly but obviously much too long to be fashionable. Society had already dubbed him “Earl Savage.”
    He took another sip of the brandy and simply shrugged. “I cannot imagine why anyone would listen to common gossip.”
    She wasn’t altogether surprised he dismissed society’s strictures, given his general air of disregard for convention.
    But, a voice in her head pointed out with annoying logic, he wasn’t raised in England, and for that matter, he was wealthy and privileged and male , which meant he could do as he damn well pleased as long as it didn’t bother him to be the target of censure and avid interest. Which, it needed to be noted, he already was.
    “They do,” she said acerbically.
    “I see.” Maybe—just maybe—there was a small flicker of reaction in his eyes. “Do I somehow owe you all an apology?”
    It was Carole who said, “No. Gentlemen are allowed to behave as they wish.”
    Ever the peacemaker. Actually, both Betsy and Carole were remarkably even-tempered and well mannered. She was the impulsive one. Lily debated for a moment whether or not she should point out that he might owe the Duke of Eddington’s daughter an apology, but decided not to pursue an argumentative course. Jonathan would have to handle that on his own.
    She had her sisters to protect. Antagonizing the current Earl of Augustine was counterproductive to her purposes. She would have stayed in the country if possible, but as much as she might be loath to admit it, he was right. She had ruined her chances for a good match, but she wanted to see both Betsy and Carole settled with suitable gentlemen. Not just because of sisterly duty but because she truly loved them and they deserved it. In the end, she said merely, “I wasn’t aware if you realized under how much scrutiny your every move will be.”
    Her brother