The Further Observations of Lady Whistledown (Lady W 1) Read Online Free PDF

“I heard you call Sir Royce and Lord Howard by their Christian names,” he said in a low voice, meeting her gaze levelly. “What sort of ‘familiarity’ do you enjoy with them?”
    Anne forced a short laugh. “Are you jealous, my lord?”
    “Yes. And I become more so with each moment I spend in your company.”
    The proclamation stopped the coy, practiced retort she’d been about to make. Men pretended jealousy to garner further favor, and she usually found it tiresome. Men didn’t admit to actual jealousy—not any men with whom she’d been heretofore acquainted. “I’m…I haven’t been attempting to make you jealous,” she offered, the heat in his gaze leaving her equal parts nervous and excited.
    “I know that. It’s another reason you intrigue me, Anne.” He brought his hand up, tucking a strand of her hair back into the clip from which it had escaped. “Call me Maximilian.”
    A sheep farmer. He’s a sheep farmer, she reminded herself fiercely. One who lived in Yorkshire, of all places. “Very well, Maximilian,” she said. Her determination to remain unmoved didn’t stop the slow swirl of lightning from coiling up her spine.
    The light in his gray eyes deepened and darkened. All he said, though, was “Fetch your wrap, Anne.”
    He followed her into the foyer, noting that she didn’t even glance at the silver tray holding the calling cards of her beaux. That was one point scored for early risers.
    Lady Anne Bishop, he was coming to realize to his growing delight, was far more complex than he’d anticipated. Each moment the plans he’d worked out to win her needed to be modified and adapted as he learned something new about her.
    The butler lifted a heavy gray cloak lined with ermine from the coat rack, and Max stepped in to intercept it. “Allow me,” he said, taking it from his surprised fingers.
    Approaching her again, he slipped the cloak over her shoulders, breathing deeply of the lavender scent of her hair as he did so. Moving around in front of her, he fastened the silver clasp beneath her chin. Her scent, touching her bare skin, intoxicated him. He’d thought to find a female to bear him an heir, and little else. The thought that he would actually desire her had never crossed his mind.
    “Anne!” a voice called from the balcony. “Where do you think you’re going?”
    Lady Daven hurried down the stairs, a footman and two maids in tow. As she approached, ranting about her daughter’s intentions much as she had last night when they’d discovered her missing, Maximilian stepped forward.
    “Lady Daven, good morning,” he said, sketching a bow.
    She skidded to a halt, her fair skin reddening. “My goodness. Lord Halfurst. I…Forgive my intrusion. I hadn’t realized you were here.”
    “No apology necessary. I merely thought to get a jump on my competition this morning. I’ve asked Lady Anne to accompany me on a walk.”
    “Your compet—” Anne began, frowning.
    “I assure you, my lord, you have no competition. Lord Daven and I have always made Anne’s duty perfectly clear to her.”
    “Mother, please don’t—”
    “Even so,” he answered, “I have lately come to think that winning by default isn’t precisely winning.”
    Anne threw open the front door and stalked outside. Stifling a frown of his own, Maximilian nodded to her mother and followed her. Whether her parents had made her duty clear to her or not, convincing her to abide by their wishes was obviously something else entirely.
    “Anne,” he said, taking her hand and wrapping it over his arm, “I hadn’t realized you were so anxious to take the morning air.”
    She shrugged free, increasing her pace. “If you’re only being nice to ‘win’ some sort of competition for my favor, I can assure you that you have no chance, and you might as well return to Yorkshire right now.”
    His earlier good humor began to fade. “Don’t be absurd.”
    “Abs—”
    “Of course I’m here to win your favor,” he