The Reluctant Miss Van Helsing Read Online Free PDF

so like you to come.”
    “I… I,” Jane hedged. Her attention was on the earl. How could she melt such a handsome visage with holy water? But regret was a four-letter word—well, six—with which spinsters were quite familiar. She could certainly use a cup of cocoa right now to settle her nerves.
    “I have invited a party of around twenty ladies and gentlemen, with guests such as Lord Graystroke and the Earl of Wolverton,” Clair continued slyly, pleased to see her friend’s face pinken.
    Yes, she thought smugly, her matchmaking plan would be a smashing success. The old Frankenstein genes, which her aunt Mary Frankenstein swore included matchmaking, were pulsing within her. Just wait until she told Ian her plan! Clair chewed her lip. On second thought, she would keep mum about the new scheme. Ian still hadn’t recuperated completely from the last one.
    “A house party? How, um… nice.” Jane nodded halfhearted, having a strong and strange urge to stick her head in the sand like her favorite ostrich, Orville, did when he got upset. She felt guilt crushing down on her chest. How could she accept Clair’s honorable invitation, knowing that the earl’s life was limited if her father’s scheme unfolded as planned? Knowing that she intended to melt Clair’s friend’s face off tonight?
    Rubbing her head, which had started to ache, Jane felt a dreadful coldness seep inside her. She was betraying Clair’s friendship by harming this devastating earl. Yet, if he were Dracul, how could she not? But if he was the unprincipled Prince of Darkness, then why had he’ saved Clair and her husband’s lives, at risk to his own? Where were the debauchery and depravity in that demonic deed?
    “Jane you haven’t answered my question,” Clair said as she noted her friend’s tense stance and lack of attention.
    “House… party… nice,” Jane replied, trying to keep her face sphinxlike. Almost against her will, her eyes were drawn back to the dashing earl, who was flirting with a bevy of beauties.
    Clair laughed. “Asher knows his worth, and he makes sure everyone else does too. Come, let me introduce you.”
    Jane shook her head. “I need to refresh myself in the ladies’ room. Later, perhaps.”
    Clair studied Jane closely, noticing her extreme agitation. “Is this more than nerves at meeting such a devilishly handsome man?” she asked.
    “Of course not!” Jane said, looking anywhere else.
    Her friend was hiding something, Clair decided. “Of course not,” she agreed, giving a warm smile. Jane had a secret, and she would find out what it was. After all, she was a Frankenstein and a Huntsley now—a practically invincible combination. Oh, to what heights she could aspire, and Ian would pick her up if she ever slipped and fell. “All right then, Jane. I will introduce you later. May I remind you that Asher’s not an ogre?”
    “No, just a devil,” Jane replied. She well knew that Asher was no ogre. He was worse. He was the fang-faced vilest of villainous vampires, Count Dracul, who wasn’t even a count at all, but an earl. The liar.
    Clair arched a brow.
    Jane smiled. “The Devil made me say it,” she joked.
    Clair laughed. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I see that my husband is motioning me over to him. But I will see you later on and make your introduction to Asher. I just know that when you get to know the Earl of Wolverton, you will find him… most intriguing. He can be a bit overweening at times, but after all, he is Asher. Besides, my dear friend, he is someone you will never forget. I’ll stake my life on it.”
    Jane nodded and then quickly strolled away, whispering softly to herself, “No, Clair you are staking the earl’s.”

Who Was that Masked Woman?
    Lord Asher, Earl of Wolverton, stood alone dressed in black, his gaze riveted on the Huntsleys. He almost smiled at Clair’s foolish shepherdess costume and the joke it implied: Clair protecting her flocks from the big bad wolf. The big bad