The Perfect Wife Read Online Free PDF Page B

Pain speared up her leg.
    “Yow!” She clutched her throbbing foot, plopped down on the floor and massaged her aching appendage. “This is really quite absurd.”
    She scowled at the offending couch leg, gasped and stared in stunned disbelief.
    Her kick had dislodged the leg from the frame, and it tilted at a slight angle. She leapt up, ignoring the pain in her foot. Gripping the carved wood in both hands, and throwing all her weight behind it, she pushed with every ounce of her strength.
    For a long moment nothing happened. Abruptly, the leg gave way. Sabrina sprawled forward on the back of the couch, it’s claw foot clutched in her hand.
    She tumbled to the floor. Apprehension and excitement battled within her. Carefully, she turned the leg over in her hands to view the hollow end where it had been affixed to the frame. Cautiously, she slid two fingers in the narrow space. The inside did not have the rough feel of wood. Rather it seemed smooth. Smooth, like paper. Her heart hammered in her chest and she forced herself to remain calm. She gently withdrew her fingers and gingerly inched out a rolled leaf of velum.
    Sabrina tossed the leg aside and set the page on the floor. Her hands trembled with the anticipation raging through her. Slowly, she smoothed the curled sheet open. She could scarcely believe her eyes. It was definitely a letter. Definitely old, yellowed with age.
    And it was in French.
Chapter Three
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    “She is not acting at all like herself. She spent all night tearing half the house apart, looking for God knows what, and now she says she’s leaving London. Erick, I’m extremely worried.”
    Belinda paced back and forth in her mother’s front salon, Erick’s gaze appreciatively following her every move. She was indeed a diamond of the first water, a reigning beauty of the current season. And she was his.
    “Have you tried talking to her?” he asked, his mind far busier contemplating the graceful way her hips swayed and the ivory bosom discreetly hidden beneath the day gown than her words.
    “Of course I have.” Belinda turned concern-clouded sapphire eyes toward him. “I have no idea what she is up to, and she simply refuses to talk to me.” She heaved a heartfelt sigh. “Mother treats me like a child still in the schoolroom.”
    “But what a lovely child,” he said under his breath. His gaze lingered on her seductive curves, full and luscious and ripe.
    Erick dreamed of the moment he would have the right to explore those curves in detail, to caress the pouting breasts and allow his lips to linger over the recesses of her delectable body. To claim her and teach her and make her in every way his own. So far they had shared but a few kisses, each less chaste than the last, each giving a promise of growing passion hidden beneath her well-guarded innocence. Even now the warm scent of her, an intoxicating blend of perfume and femininity, wafted around him, arousing and tantalizing.
    “Erick!” Impatience rang in her voice. “Are you listening to me?” Her eyes flashed blue fire and he wondered what they would flash in the throes of passion.
    “Of course.” He shepherded his wandering thoughts. “Yes, of course I’m listening. Where is your mother now?”
    “In her room. I believe she finally went to sleep late this morning. When she retired to her chamber I think ...” Belinda’s eyes were wide with disbelief, “she was singing!”
    He pulled his brows together in a thoughtful frown. “Singing? From what you’ve said I gather that is not her normal behavior?” She nodded. “Could she be ill, do you think?”
    Belinda scoffed. “I doubt it. Neither is she insane, nor is she stupid. I know her far better than anyone. She has always been something of a private person. But she has never acted especially impulsive or heedless of propriety before.” She gazed up into Erick’s eyes, and instinctively his arms curled around her, drawing her close. A cry caught in