Perilous Risk Read Online Free PDF

face down. She couldn’t look him in the eye. “Why do you ask?”
    “You are so pale.” He took her hand. “Your palms are clammy. “
    “I don’t think supper has settled very well on my stomach.”
    “Buckham’s dropping dead like that didn’t help settle anyone’s supper.”
    “No, I don’t suppose it did.”
    Jon drew her into his arms.
    She pressed her face against his shoulder. She took the safe path, the coward’s way out. “I’d love to visit America again.”

Chapter One

    Winter 1824
    The most exquisite, refined scent of roses, the kind that only the wealthiest could afford, permeated the air. Its sensual lushness was lightened by clean, fresh lavender. A faint accent of sandalwood added an exotic note.
    Candlelight glittered on tiny amethyst coloured stones. Were they really amethysts? Or paste? It was hard to say. The stones appeared to be fastenings used to attach the emerald green feathers that adorned the little violet hat, which contrasted so becomingly with the lady’s blue-black hair. She was bent over a large open volume on the counter. Her inky brows were drawn together and her forehead wrinkled with concentration.
    Whilst the clock ticked by the seemingly endless stretch of moments, a burning ache spread through Rebecca’s lower back. Discreetly, she pressed her hands to the protesting muscles. She glanced to the large storefront windows of her father’s apothecary shop. He suffered from a touch of gout and couldn’t always stay at the counter a full day any longer. She lived here now and helped him to run the business.
    Heavy grey clouds had lain on the horizon all afternoon, moving ever closer until they obscured the last traces of the sunset. It was cold and damp and she wanted nothing more than to have a hot bath and crawl into her bed beneath the heavy quilts.
    Rebecca shifted her feet and a board squeaked loudly.
    The lady jerked her head up. Her glance was sharp. “Do you have another source to confirm this one?”
    Chin slightly lifted, she spoke in a cool, cultured tone. Every inch an aristocrat.
    Noblewomen were different than noblemen. They seemed to possess less humour and were frequently of nervous, knotty-headed bents. When forced to deal with them, Rebecca had learnt to tread carefully. But this lady required even more cautious handling. She distrusted doctors. She didn’t trust most people. And each time she purchased a new medicinal extract, she demanded to be shown in books exactly what proof there was that it would work. That it was safe for her children to consume.
    Perhaps that was all something to admire, but for Rebecca, she was a difficult customer.
    She was also Jonathon Lloyd’s wife.
    Lady Ruel.
    All the unwelcome feelings, jealousy and antipathy, arose inside Rebecca, bitter as vinegar. Her nerves went taut and she had to ball her fists to keep the last of her patience from snapping. She had been about to close the shop. Had a mere five minutes passed, she wouldn’t have had to deal with Anne Lloyd at all this evening.
    She’s your most generous benefactress so mind your manners.
    Rebecca took a deep breath and forced a pleasant expression. “Let me go take a look at my bookshelf, my lady.”
    With resentment settled into her belly like a lead weight, she trudged slowly into the backroom, then stared unseeing at the multicoloured spines of the books on the shelf.
    It isn’t her fault. You cannot hate another woman because Jon fell in love with her.
    Who would have ever guessed Jon was even capable of falling in love?
    Rebecca went weak and she sagged against the bookshelf.
    I didn’t expect love. I tried to understand him and accepted what he could give me. I didn’t make demands. I tried to love him lightly. I was a good girl.
    Tears scalded her eyes. She took a gulp of air and dragged her sleeve over her face to wipe the incriminating evidence away. She’d been only a mistress. She’d had no right to expect more. No right to hurt. No right to