Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman Read Online Free PDF Page A

think I can manage. Is there someone who could trim my hair and beard after?’
    â€˜I’m a dab hand at that, sir,’ Luke replied. ‘I reckon I could help you.’
    Greville smiled to himself. Lord Bronning undoubtedly possessed a valet, but such an elevated gentleman’s gentlemanwould probably disdain to offer his services to as unprepossessing a specimen as Greville had appeared when he’d limped over the threshold at Ashton Grove.
    After a moment spent wondering what his own valet had thought months ago, when he failed to meet the man at their lodgings in London as arranged upon leaving Blenhem Hill, Greville said, ‘Thank you, Luke. I’ll ring for you when I’m ready.’
    The footmen dismissed, Greville climbed carefully out of the bed, shed the nightshirt into which someone had thoughtfully changed him the night of his arrival, unwound the binding at his chest and eased himself into the steaming water. Leaning his head back against the rim, he sighed in ecstasy.
    For long delicious minutes he let his mind simply drift, finally returning to conscious thought with the resolution that never again would he go through life oblivious to the simple delights of hot water and nourishing food. After living for months at the brute edge of existence, he would savour every moment of comfort.
    And every delight, he thought, bringing back to mind the lovely but disapproving face of his host’s daughter.
    The one pleasure he had probably missed most during his involuntary sojourn at sea was the company of women. Tall, short, slim, rounded, coy, sweet, even sharp-tongued, he appreciated them all. Though he prized most, of course, the deep euphoria of the ultimate intimate embrace, he also enjoyed the simple pleasure of feminine company.
    Even with a talkative miss who was chattering her teeth off, Greville could tune out the soft voice and observe instead the rise and fall of a bosom animated by a lively discourse. Caress with his gaze the lady’s smooth skin, sparkling eyes and plump, kissable lips. Trace with his eyes the enticing curve of breast and hip. Breathe in her unique womanly scent.
    Was Miss Neville a chatterer? he wondered, grinning at thenotion. Somehow, he didn’t think so. No, Lady Bronning had greeted him in the hall—so Miss Neville must be her father’s hostess and chatelaine of his household. That would explain the proprietary, managing air he’d sensed during his one quick glimpse of her.
    My, how perspicacious he’d become during the last eight months, he thought with rueful humour. Transitioning abruptly from being served to the one doing the serving—with swift and severe penalties for unsatisfactory performance—taught a man with amazing speed how to discern how much authority an individual possessed.
    How much more pleasant to employ that new skill in contemplating a lady! Especially a female as lovely as Miss Neville, Greville thought, running the image of her through his mind again.
    So slender and petite was she, the golden curls of her coiffure would probably fit just under his chin. He could readily imagine pulling her close, filling his nostrils with the sweet fragrance of warm woman and floral perfume. Smoothing one hand around that enticing round of derrière while cupping the plump weight of a breast in the other
    His palms itched with longing and his long-quiescent member rose stiffly in water, reminding him with a surge of urgency exactly how long he’d been without a woman.
    Pleased as he was at this evidence that his body was finally recovering, still it would be best not to let his thoughts drift in this direction. Though in the past he’d not been above seducing a willing miss, this particular miss was gently born and his host’s daughter to boot. He didn’t debauch innocents.
    Well, not often. And anyway, that part of his life was over. The new Greville, the better Greville he’d promised the Lord