The Spare Read Online Free PDF Page A

of the remark, he grinned at her. "Fear not, I promise to keep your secret." He examined Diana's sketch. "My nose isn't that long. Nor my eyes so small. And my chin is far more manly."
    "Fishing for compliments, my Lord?"
    "Shamelessly." He lifted his eyes. "Am I having any luck?"
    "There are more than enough young ladies here who, I daresay, would be more than happy to tell you they find you exceedingly handsome."
    "Do you agree with them?"
    "As indeed you are."
    "Oh, much better, Miss Willow. As to the likeness of our brave and doughty captain hanging there above the mantel, I want your opinion." He put down the sheaf of papers. "And mind you, nothing less than unadulterated truth. I've not my sister's scruples about opinions unshared."
    "Accepting as true the brothers closely resemble each other, I find the subject rather harshly painted."
    "But, of course," he said, eying Olivia while he once again studied the painting, "when this portrait was done, he was still a lieutenant and understandably concerned with advancing his career."
    "Which he did in exactly the manner suggested by his portrait."
    A girlish voice called out. "Lord Fitzalan? You simply must come here and explain why your sister may not have a phaeton."
    "A moment, Miss Cage." Fitzalan's attention returned to Olivia. "And that was?"
    "With fierce determination."
    "Can you tell his temperament from a portrait? Mere dashes of paint upon a canvas?"
    She lifted a hand toward the portrait and found the gesture blocked all but her view of the painted eyes. "That is not the face of anyone much at home with a smile."
    "You consider yourself adept at reading a gentleman's face?"
    Olivia smiled. "I do."
    "What do you read in mine?" Perhaps because he was aware their conversation was no longer private, he struck a pose. "Be brutally honest." He winked. "Lie if you must."
    "Amiability, my Lord." She laughed because she could not help her amusement. "Nothing but amiability."
    Fitzalan staggered. "Amiability?"
    "Assuredly so." By habit, she fell into vapidity, but she did not like it as well now that Fitzalan knew the truth.
    His eyes rolled toward the ceiling. "Damned by faint praise."
    "My Lord," said Olivia, lowering her voice. "Don't be petulant. You know very well you are as handsome a man who ever walked this earth. I'm sure the young ladies are breathless when they are about you."
    "But not you?"
    "I'm not young, my Lord."
    Briefly, his eyes darkened to a rain-cloud gray. "You've drawn my character accurately enough for, truly, I am amiability itself. You'll never know a man more amiable than I, as I mean for you to discover. Now, Miss Willow, what do you read in that face?" He pointed to the painting.
    She approached the portrait. She, too, clasped her hands behind her back. Dark hair, the captain had, but not black. He wore a naval officer's uniform. Gold buttons sailed down one side of his coat and his shirt lace foamed over wide lapels. A cocked hat tucked under one arm showed black trim. His eyes gazed ferociously forward, a clear, pure blue, so clear she wondered at not seeing through to the wall behind. She turned sideways so as to see the viscount. "Oh, quite a lot, my Lord. Andrew loved to tell of his brother's adventures. Indeed, I feel I know him well, having heard so many tales of danger and bravery."
    Miss Cage walked over and twined her arm around Fitzalan's, boldness she'd learned from Diana, who, when she deigned to rise, often made use of the gentlemen in such a manner. "What can you tell from the face?" she asked.
    "Consider the strong cheeks."
    "It's a very handsome face," said Miss Cage.
    Fitzalan glanced at Olivia.
    "Yes, I admit he is handsome."
    "But?" said Fitzalan. He patted Miss Cage's arm.
    "Notice how his cheeks angle toward his temples." Olivia spread her fingers, measuring the distance. "The nose forming a fierce line between his eyes. The unyielding mouth and determined chin."
    Miss Cage looked at Fitzalan. "Your sister told me she