The Perfect Scandal Read Online Free PDF Page A

scent of rose water clung to the stagnant air. His boots echoed as he made his way into the large bedchamber. He stepped over the upset silver tray, mashed food and shattered porcelain, his eyes drifting past the blue-gold pinstriped silk wallpaper and the oversized four-poster bed.
    He paused, noting the curvaceous, tall figure, dressed in an embroidered cobalt gown, lingering before the lattice window. His grandmother staredout, angling herself just enough for him to glimpse the regal profile of her powdered face and her mass of snowy-white pin curls.
    She didn’t turn or acknowledge him. No doubt because she was displeased with him for being late.
    He sighed and closed the remaining distance between them. “Is there a need to be so harsh with Miss Henderson? The poor woman was in tears.”
    â€œI was not harsh with her at all,” she quibbled in an overly dry tone. “I was merely pointing out that I do not appreciate my heirloom china being smashed into countless shards I cannot use.”
    He rolled his eyes. “If that is the worst she will ever do as a servant, be grateful. I once had all of my silver swiped.”
    â€œOh, that will come next, I am sure. I may have to dismiss her. She is far too emotional for my liking. I cannot even rationally point anything out to the woman without her blubbering at every turn.”
    â€œIf you dismiss Miss Henderson, there will be no one left to serve you, let alone answer the door. I suggest you offer her a bit more compassion. She is being sorely overworked and, knowing you, probably underpaid.”
    â€œI advise you not to be foolish enough to actually defend one of my own servants to me. I pay her very well. In fact, I pay her more than I should.”
    He sighed. “I suggest we make better use of our time. I have to leave earlier than usual today.”
    She hesitated but still didn’t turn. “Why? You always dedicate Tuesdays to me.”
    Yes, and even that was sometimes a bit too much dedication on his part. “The House of Lords will be swearing in the Duke of Norfolk, Lord Clifford and Lord Dormer today. I intend to show my support by making an appearance.”
    A brittle laugh escaped her lips. “Show your support to the Catholics, indeed. Low-hanging fruit is all they are. No good will ever come from giving such men seats.”
    â€œYou sound like a damn bigot. Reducing religious discrimination reflects the moral progress of a nation.”
    â€œAh, yes. You always were an idealist, Moreland. Much like your father.” She set her chin and continued to gaze out the window. “So, why are you late? You never are.”
    He cleared his throat, not wanting to think about why he had overslept. “Forgive me. I was behind schedule.”
    She glanced at him from over her shoulder, her arched silver brows rising. “You never stray from your schedule. It would be like a bird displacing its wings.” Her voice was patient, warm and steady, as it always was when addressing him. “Who is she?”
    He dragged in a breath, knowing if he admitted having any interest in a woman, it would only rile his grandmother into investigating his neighbor’s entire life, right down to the cosmetic creams she wore. “You are assuming far too much. I was merely slow to rise.”
    â€œYou haven’t been slow to rise in thirteen years, Moreland.” She snickered suggestively. “I only hope whatever is responsible for your… unease will cease vexing you.”
    He would either have to move or marry his neighbor for her to stop vexing him.
    His grandmother turned toward him, the long lace sleeves of her muslin gown shifting against her wrists. Dark, playful eyes met his. Raking the length of his body, she sighed. “Why do you never put any effort into your appearance, Moreland? You always wear far too much gray. And if it is not gray, it is black. Can you not invest in some…color?”
    He