Pleasuring the Lady (The Pleasure Wars) Read Online Free PDF Page A

of that place,” she said, barely able to form words when she couldn’t breathe. “Their treatment of the people, the—”
    She stopped, for she couldn’t go on. The images her words created were too much. She pushed to her feet and paced the room a moment, trying to regain her composure.  
    “I-I couldn’t stop him,” she murmured, looking at her mother, who was jerking in her restless sleep. She moved closer to brush a few pale curls from her mother’s forehead. “Oh God, I couldn’t save you.”
    She glanced up to see Potts staring at her with deep and abiding pity in her stare. The servant was kind enough to look away so she would see it no longer.  
    “Thank you for your help,” she said, smoothing her gown and stepping away from the bed. She nodded swiftly to Potts. “And for the information about my brother’s thoughts on the matter. I certainly have much to think about. I’ll stay in the room with my mother tonight, but we won’t need anything else.”
    Potts rose slowly and nodded. “Of course, my lady. Good night.”
    She left the room, but once she was gone Portia couldn’t keep up the façade. She sank into a chair beside the fire and let the tears flow. There was nothing she could do to stop her brother from doing something terrible. Nothing she could do at all.

Chapter Three
    Miles stepped into the stifling hall at Lord Steedmond’s lavish London estate. Looking around him at the crowd of mamas, debutantes and widows, he barely resisted the urge to turn on his heel and immediately walk out again.
    Winter gatherings in London were usually smaller due to the exodus of some of the elite to their country estates for the colder months, but the fires and the damp made them close-in, steamy affairs. Those hoping to get a jump on the Season’s rush were often far more aggressive here, and he already saw three or four chaperones eyeing him from the middle of the room.
    After he said hello to his host and hostess, Miles scanned the hall for an escape. Instead, his gaze found Lady Portia standing by the wall. The sister of a former friend, the Marquis Cosslow, Miles had always liked her well enough. She certainly had more sense than any current crop of debutantes put together.
    Tonight her face was pale and her gaze faraway, as it often was at these kinds of gatherings. For some reason he felt compelled to approach her, though he had no idea why. He had seen her at dozens of events and done no more than nod in her direction.
    The mother of twin daughters just out for their first Season began to move across the room toward him and Miles darted toward Portia without arguing with himself another moment. Talking to her would serve a purpose, at least for a little while.
    He reached her side and put a broad smile on his face.
    “Portia,” he drawled.
    She jumped and lifted her gaze to him, and his body clenched. Her eyes were so familiar.
    “Lord Weatherfield,” she said softly, fidgeting her hands before her. “I did not see you come in.”
    He shook his head as he stared at her. To compare her to a woman at the Donville Masquerade was ridiculous. Portia was a spinster who probably didn’t even know such places existed. It was only her pale locks and brown eyes that put him to mind of his mysterious lady, nothing more.
    “I only just arrived,” he said, forcing himself to speak. “When I saw you across the room, I could not resist coming to greet you.”
    She jolted. “Why?” she snapped, her tone far sharper than he had expected.
    He tilted his head. “Why?” he repeated.
    She swallowed. “Wh-why would you not be able to resist me?”
    He wrinkled his brow at her tone and expression. “Am I not welcome, Portia?”
    Her lips parted ever so slightly and she stared up at him, eyes filled with warring emotions. There were also faint circles beneath those eyes. What kept her up at night?  
    “Of course, my lord,” she said, dropping her chin. “You and I have always been… friends of a