The Dangerous Lord Read Online Free PDF Page A

lads!” As she hurried down, she caught sight of the rapidly melting pile of snow, which they were ranged around like surgeons around a troublesome patient.
    White brows furrowing, she shouldered the boys aside.“I suppose you children got this from the balcony, eh? I swear, Father Christmas shall bring you naught but lumps of coal in your stockin’s this year, ’specially if he has a word with your sister.”
    The panicky looks that the triplets cast each other roused Ian’s rusty protective instincts. “Actually, one of the footmen came in and shook a great amount of snow off his coat,” he remarked, hoping there were some footmen around somewhere. “I might have slipped in it if the boys hadn’t hurried down to warn me.” When their grimy faces lit up gratefully, he tempered his sudden burst of feeling with a stern glance. “I’m sure they’ll clean it all up for you. They’re very helpful lads.”
    â€œYes, we’ll do that, won’t we, boys?” the older one ordered his brothers.
    â€œOh, yes, we want to help—”
    â€œLet us do it—”
    â€œWe’ll do it right away—”
    â€œVery well, lads,” Mrs. Box said, the edges of her thin lips twitching from the urge to smile. “You may clean it up. James, run and fetch a mop. Georgie, you can use that bucket you happen to have handy.”
    She faced Ian, her smile breaking out over her face. “Thank you, sir, for bein’ so understandin’. They’re wild boys sometimes, but they can be dears when they want.”
    He tried to imagine that and failed. “I gather they don’t like Mr. Winston.”
    â€œTo be honest, sir, none of us do. And speakin’ of that, the article ain’t quite ready, but you can go on up and wait for it.” She glanced back to where the boys were spreading more snow than they picked up. “Do you mind findin’ your way yourself, luv? If I don’t keep an eye on them, they’ll have the whole foyer slicker than a cow’s spit by the time they’re through.”
    â€œIt’s no trouble.” It might give him a chance to glimpse Lord X unobserved.
    â€œThe first door to your right upstairs.” Mrs. Box pointed up to the next floor. “Go on in. It’s open.”
    â€œThank you,” he murmured, then hurriedly mounted the stairs.
    When he found the room, he started to enter, then halted in the doorway. He must have misunderstood the housekeeper’s directions. This room contained a woman, a petite young thing standing before a desk with her profile to him. He studied the profile with interest. She had a strong jawline and dramatic coloring, all russets and burnished ivory instead of the shell pink and alabaster so popular among young ladies these days.
    She must be the boys’ sister, Lissy. Judging from her size, she was probably only half his age, yet he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Her hair was what drew him, a welter of cinnamon curls haphazardly piled atop her head and held in place by two crossed knitting needles. He’d never seen a female so unconcerned about her appearance. Indeed, the hem of her azure dress was soiled, and her shoes could use a cobbler’s services.
    Then she bent to open a desk drawer, and his mouth went dry. My God, what a derriere, its sweet curves perfectly outlined beneath the thin muslin of her gown. It was perverse of him to look, but how could he not? She might be young, but she already possessed the well-proportioned figure of a courtesan. No wonder Mr. Winston gawked.
    It took all his self-control to wrench his gaze away and scan the hall for another open door. There was none. Thinking to ask the young woman to direct him, he cleared his throat.
    Just as he registered the fact that she was writing something with the ink-stained fingers described by her brothers, she said without turning, “Come in, sir. I need only to