Sins of a Virgin Read Online Free PDF

again, then paused. She didn’t have to keep him enthralled. He could be dour and bitter all he wanted and she had no responsibility to coax him from his black mood. She savored the novelty of it.
    Perhaps she shouldn’t have tormented him yesterday, but it had seemed easier to show how she planned to ensure her bidders’ cooperation rather than argue. And truth be told, his arrogance had nettled, and she’d wanted to take him down a peg.
    Madeline walked toward him, doing her best to give no indication of the way energy sizzled around him, raising the hair on the back of her neck. While he was not precisely handsome, she’d dealt with enough men to know he’d undress well. But that didn’t explain why his proximity increased the rate of her heart. She kept her gait steady as she passed, hoping to determine the cause of her agitation.
    Most likely it was the way his eyes never left her, and the fact that it wasn’t lust binding his gaze. She was unused to people seeing past her beauty. It unnerved her. Her secrets were her own.
    Beyond the carriage, a footman ducked behind an oak tree.
    Not knowing what about him had caught her attention, she lifted her skirts and hurried across the street. She knew better than to ignore her instincts. The crunch of gravel informed her that Huntford followed. She didn’t look back, hoping that if she ignored him, he wouldn’t speak until she could see the man behind the tree.
    It was a vain hope. “Madeline—”
    The man darted out, his pace just short of a run.
    “Henry!” Madeline called out, hoping to startle him into turning around. But the man didn’t slow. Short of breaking into a run herself—and she knew she’d never be able to explain that to Huntford’s satisfaction—she wouldn’t be able to catch him. She studied what she could: the awkward swing of the man’s arms, the slight outward turn of his feet, his boots. The boots were by Hoby—there was no mistaking the quality. And they were new and perfectly fitted.
    Shoes never lied. A wig or coat could be thrown on, but shoes were too bulky. And if he’d planned his disguise so poorly, he wasn’t a professional.
    But neither was he a footman.
    Huntford watched her as if she’d gone mad.
    “I could have sworn that was the footman I sent to deliver letters. But I must have been wrong.” While pretending to adjust her skirt, Madeline studied the grass under the tree where the man had been standing. Well trampled. He’d been waiting there for some time.
    If he’d been an assassin, she’d be dead.
    Huntford’s eyes bored through her again. “You often run after servants?”
    Far too observant.
    She raised an eyebrow. “He also left with the silver.”
    As she’d hoped, Huntford’s attention lifted toward where the man had disappeared. “Do you want me to go after him?”
    Madeline shook her head. If the man came back, she’d be ready for him. “It wasn’t him. Henry was shorter.” She crossed the street and climbed into her carriage.
    “Lenton, Billingsgate, and Wethersly are your top three bidders,” he said as he sat across from her.
    She nodded. Apparently, she’d been granted a reprieve for this morning’s oddity, but she didn’t for a moment believe he’d forgotten. “I received a report on the bid book as well.”
    “What do you know of them?”
    “You’ve had their names since this morning. What did you find out?”
    His shoulder hitched upward. “Lenton is young and horse mad, inherited a large amount of money from his maternal grandmother. Billingsgate is a gambler and floats between wealth and poverty on a weekly basis. Wethersly, I haven’t heard much about, but from what I could discover, he’s an old man with an eye for pretty women. What do you know?”
    She saw no reason to hide the fruits of her own carefully placed questions. “Billingsgate has won more than he’s lost the past few weeks and prefers faro.”
    “Do you know him?”
    “Only very slightly. We met in the