Scandal of the Year Read Online Free PDF

“Mama, would you care for a cup of tea?”
    Edith Crompton shook her head. “I’ve already had my share at breakfast with your father. By the by, he was extremely pleased that you had danced with His Grace.”
    Blythe glanced up in surprise. “Papa said that?”
    “Yes. Your father believes that a marriage between you and the duke would be an absolutely brilliant match.”
    As she poured herself a steaming cup of tea, Blythe felt a twinge of dismay. When it came to society, Mama had always been the ambitious one. She never seemed satisfied with their wealth, their fine home, their invitations to the best parties. She’d pushed all three of her daughters to marry dukes, although Portia and Lindsey had had other ideas.
    Papa had left all the match-making to her mother. He was busy with his shipping business, yet whenever Blythe entered his office, he would always push aside his work and chat with her. He had never asked anything of her other than affection. Until now.
    Now he wanted her to marry the Duke of Savoy.
    Blythe added a lump of sugar to her tea. Well then, so be it, she would make her dear Papa happy by pursuing a betrothal to the duke. Surely all of the doubts she’d awakened with this morning were just a temporary fit of the doldrums. And as Mama had said, love would come in time.
    “It would be marvelous to be a duchess,” Blythe said slowly. “No one would ever dare to snub any of us ever again. I would have my choice of invitations, I’d lead the way into dinner, and I’d even be invited to hobnob with royalty.”
    “Indeed you would,” her mother said approvingly. “I shall set my mind to the task of finding a way to win over Lady Davina. Nothing is impossible when one is determined.”
    While her mother paced, deep in thought, Blythe bent over the tray to uncover a dish of buttered toast. The delicious aroma caused her stomach to growl. But when she picked up a piece, it was soggy.
    “Cold toast again. When I am Duchess of Savoy, I shall insist—”
    Something made her look up. A footman stood in the open doorway—the door that Nan had left open. He was gazing straight at Blythe.
    Her heart lurched. James .

Chapter 5
    A flurry of awareness raced over her skin. Dropping the toast, Blythe clutched the edges of her dressing gown together. The nightclothes covered her from neck to toe, yet she was keenly aware of her unbound breasts beneath the fine lawn fabric.
    She curled her bare toes into the soft Axminster carpet. How long had he been standing there? Had he overheard her nattering on about becoming a duchess?
    What did it matter, anyway, if he had? The opinion of a servant held no significance.
    Beneath the powdered wig, his chiseled features were impassive. “A parcel for Miss Crompton,” he announced.
    Only then did she notice the salver he carried in his gloved hands. On it sat a small box wrapped in cream paper.
    “Oh…” She pulled her scattered thoughts together. “Will you place it on the table by the hearth?”
    “It may be from His Grace,” Mrs. Crompton said, sweeping forward to pluck the box off the salver. “Draw the curtains, James. We’ll need more light.”
    He bowed, and there was something inherently proud in his bearing. “Yes, madam.”
    He started toward the bank of windows behind Blythe. Picking up a spoon, she pretended to be engrossed in stirring her tea. All the while, she studied him from beneath the veil of her lashes. He had the wide shoulders and muscled physique of an Adonis—although no lofty Greek god would have donned stiff blue livery with gold buttons. Her wayward mind produced an image of James in the pose of a classical statue with a naked torso and a loincloth slung low on his hips.
    She fought off a hot blush. Whatever had made her imagine that ?
    To make matters worse, as her gaze returned to his face, James had the audacity to wink at her.
    As if he were privy to her fantasy.
    Her foolish heart stumbled over a beat. Quickly she stared down