The Marker Read Online Free PDF

who wore such fine clothes and could afford to gamble the sum of money he had wagered the night before. He held her for a moment too long, her body close to his in a way that seemed almost indecent, but she couldn’t put a finger on what precisely she should object to. Her pulse quickened when her gaze met his, and a strange tingling sensation spread through her limbs, a warmth that stretched from him and through her, as intoxicating as liquor.
    He guided her into his home, a large mansion in a fashionable neighborhood. The grand white house with a black door and black trim had a wide front porch wrapping around the sides of the house and looked perfect for lounging on sultry summer nights. Black shutters framed the windows, and the roof was steep and comprised of intersecting gables, uniform and angular. Lexie had been in this area of town only once, with her mother, long ago. She had thought it grand then, and it still was.
    “Your home is lovely.”
    “Thank you,” he replied, guiding her inside, where she was greeted by gleaming parquet floors and a bright oriental rug in bold, primary colors: indigo and navy, crimson and scarlet, emerald, crisp ivory. The entry way was painted crimson. Bright white, intricately patterned crown molding edged the high ceiling. Behind her, a wide spiral staircase led to the second floor. Just like his finely tailored clothing, the very air in this house whispered of money.
    Squaring her shoulders, she swallowed her awe and reminded herself she was nothing but a servant.
    He looked down at her, and only then did she realize he still had possession of her arm. She tried to step away from his touch, but he followed her. “I hope you will find yourself happy here.”
    The gentleness of his voice shocked her. The way he said the words as if he believed she could be content here, with him. As if her happiness mattered to him. A little scared—her happiness hadn’t mattered to anyone in a long time—and intrigued at once, she frowned up at him and stepped away. This time, he let her go.
    At that moment, an older woman with graying hair and piercing blue eyes rounded the corner, and Lexie scampered even further away from Nicholas. In a heavy accent, the woman said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Wetherby.”
    “Mrs. Ferguson,” he acknowledged.
    Mrs. Ferguson gave Lexie a long look, sizing her up. “So, what have ye brought me this time?”
    Humiliated, Lexie wanted to crawl into a hole. He might by attractive and rich, but this man was no prince. He has no honor, she reminded herself to calm her wayward heart. She was not the first woman he had brought into his home, certainly not the first woman he would attempt to seduce, nor would she be the last, should she succumb to his not insubstantial charms. She needed to keep her distance.
    “That’s enough, Mrs. Ferguson,” he said, putting a hand on the older woman’s shoulder in a familiar, companionable way. “This is Alexandra Markland.”
    Before Nicholas finished the introduction, Lexie extended her hand. “Lexie,” she corrected. “I’m to serve here.”
    “I just bet ye are,” Mrs. Ferguson said, the blunt appraisal clear in her eyes, and heat rose to Lexie’s cheeks. Turning to Nicholas, Mrs. Ferguson asked, “Where shall I set up her room?”
    “One of the guest rooms upstairs.”
    Lexie turned on Nicholas. Her temper flaring, she rounded on him much as she had rounded on her father earlier in the day. “Oh no, I am not one of your doxies!” She turned to Mrs. Ferguson, and, evening her tone, said, “The servants’ quarters would do nicely, if you would kindly show me where they are. I am quite capable of setting up my own room, no need to trouble yourself.”
    “There’s the room under the stairs in the kitchen...” Mrs. Ferguson began, her mouth quirking into a smile as her gaze shifted between her employer and Lexie.
     
    Nicholas opened his mouth to insist she take one of the guest rooms, but Lexie cut him off with