Season for Surrender Read Online Free PDF

contribute ninety minutes, and you would each then begin by risking one hour of your time.”
    â€œIf I win, I am going to have you wear a dress,” Jane said. “Not you, Louisa. You, Xavier.”
    Miss Oliver smiled, though Xavier noticed a pucker between her brows as she shifted her face-down cards into a neat line before her. “That would be a sight worth capturing in oils, if only I were an artist. But what would I be required to wear, Jane?”
    â€œI can suggest something, I’m sure,” Lockwood said in an oily voice. Xavier glared at him; Lockwood returned a smug smile.
    â€œYou can wear Xavier’s clothes,” Jane suggested, her expression pleased. “It will be like a pantomime.”
    â€œCould we defer this discussion of clothes-swapping until you actually win, Jane?” Xavier said, hiding the rough edges of his thoughts under a smooth voice. “Which, I might add, you will not.”
    He flipped over the top card from the deck and sat back in his chair. “Seven of diamonds. There’s our trump.”
    Jane looked disgusted and slapped her hand on her own cards. “A seven? That’s the worst card possible to decide on. Do you cheat, Xavier?”
    â€œHow suspicious you are,” Xavier replied. “You wound my honor. Or you would, if I thought you knew what you were talking about at all.”
    Jane put out her tongue like a child, and Miss Oliver laughed. “I feel like I’m home with my four young siblings, trying to keep them from fighting over puzzle pieces.”
    â€œIt was an excellent retort,” Xavier agreed. “I am a noted wit. All the world concurs.” He noticed with some pleasure that Lockwood looked annoyed.
    Miss Oliver bit her lip. Her fingers danced over the cards that lay before her. The slight taps seemed loud and fraught, and Xavier felt his skin wake again.
    â€œI’ll buy the seven from you, my lord,” she decided. “Will you sell it for fifteen minutes?”
    â€œThirty,” he said. “A mere half hour of your time.”
    She looked up at him with those great dark eyes. “That’s a great deal of time for such a small card. One can do much, you know, with half an hour.”
    Didn’t he know it. In half an hour, he had once eaten breakfast and then fought a duel.
    He had once spent twice that arranging his neckcloth for a ball he didn’t even attend, having picked up an opera dancer for an evening’s entertainment instead.
    He had stared at Purgatorio for “the hour that turneth back desire,” and wondered how the devil he was going to maintain everyone’s reputations—whether proper or improper—for two entire weeks.
    â€œThat’s my price,” he said. “A half hour of your time.”
    â€œI’ll buy it,” Miss Oliver decided. “Show your cards, please, everyone.”
    Lockwood turned over a three of diamonds into the center of the table with a muttered curse. Jane flipped over her top card and groaned. “The five of clubs. I hate this game.”
    â€œYou are the one who suggested it,” Xavier reminded her. “And you will never win, Jane, if you don’t risk anything.” At arm’s length, he turned over his own card.
    Ten of diamonds. Well, well. “Miss Oliver, I own a half hour of your time.”
    Her cheeks colored at his words, but she raised a corner of her mouth in a half smile, looking almost feline. “The game is not over yet, my lord. We shall see who owns whom by the time we are finished.”
    He choked.
    He covered the sound by clearing his throat, but his head spun as though his rheumy cold had returned. Had the bluestocking flirted with him?
    He smiled back, but forgot to tame it into Expression Three, Amused Tolerance. Instead, a real smile slipped its leash, and her eyes widened a fraction.
    Again he cleared his throat. “Shall we move on with the game? I hold the