The Reluctant Earl Read Online Free PDF Page A

fire. There was an uneasiness, a strain in his arrogant posture, as if he hadn’t yet accustomed himself to civilian life or his new station. “A rather rash assessment based on our, what, ten minutes acquaintance? What would a mere provincial governess know of evil?”
    “Evil exists wherever one person uses a disparity of power to harm another. Unfortunately one can find it anywhere.”
    A triumph born of knowledge flared in that intense gaze. Too late, she realized she’d said too much. “And is it this ‘disparity of power’ that prompts you to assist those creating unrest across the country?”
    How many others would she bring down with her folly? Alec? Wetherel? Her sister? “Are we back to your wild accusations?”
    “You haven’t yet answered my question.”
    “I could say the same of you.”
    “But surely as the aggrieved party—we are in my bedchamber, after all—I have the right to be satisfied first?”
    Not that it much mattered what he believed. She was powerless to escape, to stop him, to change his mind. The mere accusation of treason by one of his rank would lead her to the same conclusion as a confession—a quick execution. And even if she found someone to believe her denials, what could she expect but a slower track to the same end? No respectable woman would hire her as a governess now. Without her position in Sotherton’s household, her usefulness to Alec’s...friends would come to an end along with her ability to sell information.
    And as Lord Chambelston had so inelegantly reminded her, she didn’t possess the physical or financial attributes necessary to enter into a liaison—licit or illicit—with a man. “So then, my lord, it seems we are at an impasse.”
    “Come, Miss Vance. Surely you don’t mean to keep us at this impasse, as you say, all night.”
    Why not, when it was plain she would get no sleep anyway? Besides, here a fire danced merrily on the hearth. She doubted she’d feel so warm once he’d dumped her unceremoniously on the street on such a cold winter’s night.
    * * *
    Tense moments of interminable silence ticked by as Julian waited. And waited. Alas, wintertime travel, compounded with the stresses of the past month, had left him too exhausted to appreciate the intriguing notion of being stuck in his chamber with a woman—a woman whose life he now held in his hands.
    And she knew it also, as evinced by her continuing silence.
    He released a dramatic sigh. “Very well, then.” He reached behind him and wrapped his fingers around the doorknob.
    “Wait!”
    He paused, admiring her composure. Despite the tension coiling through the room like whorls of smoke, she maintained her regal carriage. No fidgeting or fluttering of hands marred her apparent serenity. Only the faintest tightening of her jaw suggested disquiet. “Yes?”
    “Where are you going?”
    “Why, Miss Vance, what choice have I but to confer with my esteemed brother-in-law, the undersecretary himself? Unless you can give me a reason why I shouldn’t.”
    “What do you want from me?” Did desperation append a squeak to her otherwise unruffled alto?
    He released the knob and folded his arms across his chest again. “Let’s start with a confession. Why are you in my chamber?”
    Resignation softened her cheeks, and yet her gaze met his, direct and unashamed. “Very well. Yes, I entered your chamber seeking information.”
    “Information about...?”
    “The government’s response to the people’s complaints.”
    Satisfaction whizzed through his veins. Here at last, someone who could get him the answers he sought—someone who would. Or else. “Tell me what you know about my father’s death.”
    Brown brows arched softly over her wide hazel eyes. “Only what I read in your note.”
    “Ah, yes. My note. I’ll take it, if you please.”
    She crouched down to the floor, her skirts billowing out around her, retrieved the missive and rose gracefully to her feet.
    He held out his hand,