The Rake's Unveiling of Lady Belle Read Online Free PDF Page B

the pity.
    â€˜Madame Belle?’ He looked into deep, dark eyes, and wondered where he’d seen such intense blue irises before. She reminded him of someone but at that moment he had no idea whom.
    She nodded. ‘My lord. How exactly can I hep you?’ The accent was a mix of French and English, and called to him like a siren song.
    Phillip prowled around the room. One long table and a tall cupboard filled one side of it. The other had a deep and comfortable-looking daybed, two armchairs and a low table between them. The fireplace was ornate, and the light fittings of the highest quality. More like a sitting room, it was unlike any workroom he’d seen. Not that he’d seen that many. He was very selective as to which of his many—and he admitted it was a considerable number—mistresses he dressed to such a high degree. However, this time he rather thought the lady in question would merit such attention. A fitting swan song. Even he would admit his behaviour had been less than stalwart.
    He was jaded. Bored and uneasily aware he went through the motions with no emotional involvement. It was time to take stock of what he was and what he wanted to be. The last thing he wished to become was an aged roué.
    â€˜I wish you to outfit a lady.’ Phillip mentally winced at his affected languid rake’s tone, so unlike the normal tenor he used.
    She cocked her head to one side. He waited for her to reply. She didn’t.
    â€˜What?’ he asked in irritation. Who did he know who held her head in just such a way?
    â€˜What?’ Madame Belle walked towards him, and indicated the door. ‘Why, if we are to discuss business let us go through to my office.’
    She walked past him, and he looked at the other woman in the room with one eyebrow raised. ‘Which is where?’
    â€˜Oh, sorry, my lord, follow me.’ She scurried past him, and turned to the left and down the stairs. ‘The upper part of the building is not for visitors to the salon.’
    He hadn’t thought it was, but the woman had left him alone for so long he’d decided to explore. Voices from the floor above had led him to the stairs and the room they had just vacated. He’d arrived at the open door just in time to hear Madame Belle ask where he was. Now he wished he’d got there a few moments earlier. Something about the woman intrigued him.
    And arouses me
. He adjusted himself discreetly under his trousers before he reached the bottom of the staircase.
    â€˜I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,’ he said to the lady who waited for him. ‘You are?’
    She blushed the colour of the sash on her dress. ‘Oh, I’m Tippen, your lordship. I’m, well, Madame Belle’s…’
    â€˜Right-hand woman,’ the lady mentioned answered. ‘I couldn’t mange without her. Tippen, do you think you could ask Mrs Lovett for…?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Brandy? Port? Wine? Whisky?’
    â€˜Tea,’ Phillip said firmly. Somehow he had a feeling he’d need his wits and faculties in full working order or Madame Belle would run rings around him.
    â€˜Tea?’ both women said in amazed voices.
    He laughed. ‘Why not? My sister coerced me to try it, and now I find it refreshing.’
    â€˜Tea it is, then.’
    â€˜And scones?’ he asked in a tone most woman would roll over and beg for. ‘I’m partial to scones.’ He paused and smiled in a way he knew would persuade most women to do whatever he asked. ‘With jam?’
    â€˜Do not push your luck, my lord.’ Madame Belle’s voice was full of humour, as if she understood what he was doing and was amused, but not influenced by it. ‘Follow me if you will.’ She turned into the room behind her and Phillip did as she bade with alacrity, amused by her attitude and his diverted response to it.
    He looked around him, not bothering to hide his interest.