The Dangerous Lord Read Online Free PDF

make this one little correction, and then you can take it.”
    Two things hit him at once. One, her calm, assured voiceindicated that she wasn’t as young as he’d thought. And two, she was obviously expecting a visitor.
    Mr. Winston.
    Bloody hell , he thought, cursing himself for his slow-wittedness. Lord X is a woman .

Chapter 3
    A certain knight’s lady should beware her husband’s dalliance with an opera singer notorious for her open hands and closed heart. Rumor has it the thrush angles for a castle, and will not mind drowning the reigning peacock in the moat to get it.
    L ORD X, T HE E VENING G AZETTE ,
D ECEMBER 8, 1820
    F elicity scratched out a word, then scribbled another in the margin. “I’m sorry I’m so late with it,” she said, still scanning the page for other errors. “It’s been a frenzied morning.”
    A masculine voice, smooth as good French brandy, answered. “Take your time, madam. I’m enjoying the view.”
    The instant the man’s insolent meaning registered, she whirled around, preparing to give this new employee of Mr. Pilkington’s the same sharp setdown she’d given Mr. Winston on his first day. Then she froze. The man with the cool, collected gaze who stood outside the door to her study was definitely not from the Gazette .
    The Viscount St. Clair. She would recognize him anywhere.
    Drat, drat, and double-drat. What was he doing here?Clearly Mrs. Box had mistaken him for Mr. Pilkington’s man and sent him up. But that didn’t explain why a titled lord would call on her.
    He smiled, or rather his mouth did. The rest of his expressionless face didn’t indicate why he’d come. He stepped into the room. “I take it you know who I am.”
    She certainly did. Though she’d never seen him this close, she’d noticed him at countless social occasions. Who wouldn’t notice a man like that, nearly as tall as two of the triplets? Besides, few men filled out their coats and breeches so well in this age. And few men were so obviously not dandies. His face, with its sharp angles and rough lines, provoked comment wherever he went, especially when coupled with the olive complexion he’d inherited from his Spanish mother.
    Not to mention those eyes…the exotic hue of India ink with pupils that seemed to spiral down into a black soul. They weren’t called “devil’s eyes” for nothing. Women either shrank from them or lost themselves in the depths…
    She shook herself. She wouldn’t be losing herself in those depths. What was wrong with her?
    Yes, she knew him, only too well after following him down Waltham Street last week. Could that be why he was here? Because of the mention in last week’s column?
    But he couldn’t possibly know she was Lord X: Mr. Pilkington guarded her identity well. Nor had Lord St. Clair any reason to protest her article. Men of his ilk loved having their mistresses praised.
    Still, it wouldn’t do for him to discover the truth. Quickly, she shoved her article under some papers behind her, then pasted a smile to her face. “Good day, Lord St. Clair. You must excuse my surprise. I didn’t think we’d ever been introduced.”
    â€œWe haven’t, madam.” Reaching behind him, he closed the door, an action that substantially increased her unease. Then his gaze narrowed on her. “But I know who you are.”He said it as if surprised to discover it. “I’ve seen you at some of the balls. You’re Miss Felicity Taylor. Your father was Algernon Taylor, the architect.”
    â€œQuite so.” Good Lord, this was strange. He’d come to visit her, yet he’d only just now realized who she was?
    â€œI was sorry to hear of your father’s death last year.” His words were suitably sympathetic, but his expression still impossible to read. “I saw his work at Worthing Manor and Somerset House. He was