Scandal Read Online Free PDF

kind, Mrs. Evans,” she said.
    â€œYou’re welcome,” Sophie said. She hated that she sounded stiff and pompous, too.
    Maeve reached for Banallt’s hand as he passed her on his way from the hearth. He stopped. “Banallt,” she said in a voice that made his name both a protest and an enticement.
    â€œHave a pleasant night,” he said while Sophie opened the cedar trunk at the foot of the bed and took out two extra blankets. It was August, but the room hadn’t had a fire for weeks and the air was not only cold but musty. She could not help the staleness, but the cold she could remedy.
    When she looked up from the trunk, Lord Banallt had his arms around Maeve’s waist, and Maeve was plastered against him. The woman ran her fingers through Banallt’s thick, black hair. In response, he bent his head and brushed his lips across hers. Sophie saw his mouth open. She looked away, but not before his hands tightened around the woman’s waist. And not before she saw him sway on his feet. Her belly tightened as he made a low sound far too intimate for a moment that was not private.
    Sophie closed the chest. Loudly. The couple broke apart, and she pretended she’d not seen anything. She placed the blankets on the bed. “If you’ll come with me, my lord.”
    Banallt followed her out, one hand smoothing his hair. Nan, Sophie’s maid of all work, stood in the hall, a cloak drawn tight around her shoulders and gloves on her hands. She held up her lamp. “Mrs. Evans?” she said. Her attention went to Lord Banallt and her mouth dropped open.
    â€œThank goodness you’re up, Nan.” She smiled with relief. “I don’t suppose anyone could sleep through that racket. My husband is here unexpectedly, with Lord Banallt and—”
    â€œMrs. Andrews,” Banallt said from nearer to her than she’d thought he was.
    â€œCan you do for Mrs. Andrews?” Nan was twenty years old, a pretty girl and utterly reliable. Without her assistance, managing Rider Hall would have been an overwhelming responsibility. “She’s just in there, and I expect she needs assistance.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.” Nan’s eyes constantly shifted to Lord Banallt. Sophie now had a new worry. Nan was a very pretty girl. Too pretty to find work at other homes where the ladies of the house preferred less temptation before their husbands. Sophie shot Banallt a look and was not reassured.
    â€œNan,” Banallt said. Oh yes indeed, he had noticed Nan and her pretty face. Nan, in the act of knocking on Maeve’s door, froze at the command in his voice. “My valet is in the barn attending the horses. His name is King. You will recognize him from his crooked nose. He’s ugly as sin but putty in the hands of a pretty girl. Give him a smile, and tell him he’s required after all. Direct him to my room, if you would.”
    Nan curtseyed. “Milord.”
    Sophie opened a second door farther down the hall—inconveniently far, she hoped as she went in. She found a lamp and lit it while, again, Lord Banallt bent over the hearth to start the fire. “At least you make yourself useful,” she said.
    â€œI’ve no desire to freeze to death.”
    She pulled sheets off the furniture. Rider Hall so seldom had guests that Sophie kept most of the rooms closed up. Done with the fire, Banallt stood at the grate. He put a hand on the mantel to steady himself. She wondered how much he’d had to drink. To think this was the man she had once imagined as the hero of so many stories. “Sit down, my lord, before you fall and break your head.”
    He threw himself onto a chair and let his legs sprawl out. “I’m foxed,” he said slowly. “More foxed than I thought.” He ran his hands through his hair. “My head’s spinning.”
    â€œOverindulgence will do that.”
    â€œYou have a very tart