Tainted by Temptation Read Online Free PDF

become the fallen woman they said she was. What was left except trolling the streets, or submitting to an employer’s advances?
    “If I have to dismiss you for cause in the interim, you will be paid only half wages. Is that clear, Miss Campbell?”
    “Clear as a bell,” she answered, refusing to be cowed. “I will not give you cause.”
    He nodded. “Fair enough.”
    She studied Mr. Pendar’s profile. His face was angular, with long flat cheeks, an aristocratic forehead, and a sharp nose perhaps too thin to be classically handsome, but there was something compelling about his looks. As if aware of her scrutiny, he turned his dark eyes in her direction.
    Velvet reached for a roll and buttered it with shaking hands. If her father hadn’t taken ill, she might have been married a dozen years ago. She had expected, fervently desired, to be a wife and mother by now, but her penance must not be complete. A governess’s lot was to be isolated on the nursery floor or occupied with minding her charges the few times she was out of the house in church or family trips. Meeting a suitable man was impossible.
    She tried not to think of such things often, but Mr. Pendar was probably only her senior by two or three years. He’d been married and had a nine-year-old child. An unbidden curiosity about what he did to satisfy his manly needs popped into her head.
    “Occasionally after Iris is abed, you’ll have extra duties.” He took a bite of his fish.
    As a handsome young widower, he surely didn’t need to harass a live-in governess for those needs. Her fork clattered to her plate. She waited for the revulsion and outrage. Her stomach fluttered wildly. That he would broach the subject so boldly instead of just cornering her in a corridor or groping her in her room when the household was asleep shocked her.
    Her thoughts scrambled through her limited options. Could she find work or would it just be better to stop trying to preserve her virtue?
    He was not too old or too young. But the rumors about him . . . the scars on the cheek he kept averted from her could have come from a woman’s nails as she tried to keep from being tossed off a cliff.
    That thought scared her bad enough that her stomach roiled. She pressed the back of her hand against her lips, hoping she was not about to disgrace herself as beads of moisture appeared on her upper lip. “I’m sorry. Please excuse me.”
    She pushed her chair back and fled to the door.

Chapter 3
     
     
    T he dark corridor closed in on Velvet. Running from the dinner table was childish. She was ashamed of her actions, ashamed of her thoughts. His broaching the idea of her becoming his mistress at the dinner table was laughable. She had added two and two and come up with fourteen. Usually her math skills were better. Heaving in deep breaths, she leaned against a side table.
    Her rebellious stomach settled.
    Mr. Pendar gripped her elbow.
    She started.
    “Miss Campbell, you are still ill.”
    The sound of rain had covered his silent approach. He slid his arm around her waist and guided her back toward the open doors of the dining room. “Sit down. I will have Mrs. Bigsby or Nellie help you to your room.”
    She desperately needed to eat, not go to her room without supper. “I’m fine.”
    “Clearly you are not,” said Mr. Pendar. His grip under her elbow was supportive, not suggestive, but his touch burned through her as he guided her back into the dining room.
    Perhaps she would be safe if he thought her sick. Perhaps she would be safe if she were locked in her room. Perhaps she would be safe if she didn’t want to collapse into his arms.
    Oh, God, what was wrong with her?
    “Let me ring for Mrs. Bigsby.” He pulled out the nearest chair, and she sat.
    She grabbed his arm. “Please don’t.”
    He froze.
    Her fingers had closed around his brick hard forearm. She snatched her hand back aware that she had overstepped her bounds. Governesses didn’t grab the master of the house. She