The Price of Indiscretion Read Online Free PDF

man?
    She certainly appeared prosperous now, and that had not been how he’d left Veral Cameron’s daughter.
    Before he could reason it out, Alex turned and started down the gangway, heading for Miranda.

Three
    A bead of sweat trickled down Miranda’s spine, brought on by the warmth of the noonday sun, several layers of clothes—including a miserable corset she’d been instructed to wear to give her bust that “extra” push—and the knowledge that Lady Overstreet watched her closely.
    Only for Charlotte and Constance, waiting behind patiently in New York, would she go through all this trouble.
    This was her first test to see if, after weeks at sea being drilled on deportment, diction, and flirtation, she would prove to be a prize pupil or a dunce.
    Lady Overstreet had coolly informed her that capturing the hearts of every sailor on the Venture , the merchantman they had sailed on, didn’t count. “Sailors are a rough lot that will follow anything in skirts,” she’d declared. “What matters here is if you can attract other sorts of men. We shall test your skills in Ponta Delgada, when our ship stops for supplies. We shall make note of any shortcomings and refine your abilities before we arrive in London.”
    And so they had set out for a walk along the wharf, accompanied by the Venture ’s commander, Captain Lewis, who had taken a liking to Lady Overstreet, and Senhor Esteves, the pilot and harbormaster. Senhor Esteves was a pompous man, old enough to be her grandfather, very wealthy according to Azorean standards, and embarrassingly smitten by her.
    On the trip over, she’d repeatedly told herself it didn’t matter whom she married. She was doing this for her sisters, whose chances at good marriages she had destroyed years ago. However, now she found herself praying, Please, God, don’t let me be married to a man as boring as Senhor Esteves.
    Fortunately, within minutes of starting their promenade, men came from everywhere to pay their addresses, and Miranda quickly encouraged them, using her new skills to great advantage. They crowded around her, begging introductions and wanting to monopolize her attention. She felt like an actor playing a part, and it was fun, especially after the boring hours at sea.
    Lady Overstreet had assured her that the secret to conversing with men was to let them talk about themselves. “It’s the only thing that truly interests them,” she had told Miranda. “No one values a woman’s opinion.”
    Sadly, Miranda realized her mentor’s advice was true. All she had to do was smile, hardly hearing half of what was said to her, and the gentlemen practically fell to their knees in front of her.
    The gentlemen didn’t seem to mind that she didn’t have a thought in her head. They didn’t appear to expect anything from her. She was like a lovely bauble, a description Lady Overstreet had used repeatedly during her tutoring, brought out for their enjoyment. Qualities such as kindness, intelligence, and a gentle nature were insignificant when compared to the advantages of an ample cleavage and a pretty face.
    Senhor Esteves refused to remove himself from Miranda’s side. He clutched her parasol with possessive authority, and in recognition of the power the harbormaster held in this island society, no one had challenged him for the spot beside her—until the British navy arrived.
    Captain Sir William Jeffords, commander of the British warship out in the harbor, was a very handsome man. His blond hair was styled in dashing ringlets, and he was trim and muscular, cutting a fine figure in his gold braid and dress uniform. Lady Overstreet fell all over herself at the mention of his family name and slid a pointed look to Miranda that informed her louder than words that here was someone suitable to test her new skills on.
    But Miranda’s American soul was not impressed. She’d met officers like him in New York—men who had taken one look at her dress and thought her beneath them. Nor