The Wary Widow Read Online Free PDF Page B

child.”
    “Aren't you?” She certainly didn't look a day over eighteen.
    “Well, no,” she stammered. “I turned twenty in February. I'm older than Lizzie by six months.”
    “Ah...my mistake.” He crossed the room to them and stood over Mrs. Finch's shoulder. “What do you think, Mrs. Finch? Will she survive?”
    A loud cackle filled the room and Mrs. Finch threw her head back, laughing bawdily, making her exposed bosom bounce frantically. Andrew watched Mrs. Hawthorne. She was clearly baffled by this odd woman and the circumstances of Andrew's household.
    “It's nary a scrape, milord,” Mrs. Finch said, smacking him rather forcefully on the arm. “A little alcohol and a bandage and she'll be right as rain, she will. Sit tight, Mrs. Hawthorne, I'll be back in a moment. And don't let this one charm you into his bed while I'm gone.”
    With another loud cackle, the woman disappeared through the doorway. Andrew turned to see Mrs. Hawthorne gaping after her.
    “Don't mind her,” he said. “She's a bit spirited, but she makes a fine housekeeper.”
    “Fine, indeed. Wherever did you find such a woman?”
    Andrew smiled, liking very much that this slight woman of twenty years didn't mince words or beat about the bush. “I'll tell you if you promise not to tell Lady Elizabeth. I've no doubt she would disapprove of our unconventional housekeeper.”
    Chloe scooted forward on the edge of the chair, her eyes wide with curiosity. “I promise.”
    “Truth be told,” he began, “I met her at an establishment of, shall we say, questionable values?” He stopped, realizing this was an entirely inappropriate conversation to be having with a lady, alone, in his parlor, widow or otherwise.
    “Well, go on, my lord. Mrs. Finch will be back any moment.”
    “Yes, well...you see, this isn't all that easy to say to a lady such as yourself.”
    “Oh, I'm no lady, just poor relations.”
    Andrew laughed and finally gave in. “The madam gave her to me, so to speak. She was to be mine for the night, only she came to me trembling, upset, really quite terrified.”
    “Oh, dear, the poor thing!”
    “Poor thing is right. She was only nineteen at the time. Both her parents had died of some sort of fever and she'd fallen into the profession quite by accident. She'd been working , shall we say, for three years, but had, just that night, experienced something quite frightening.”
    “Did she tell you what happened?”
    “Yes, but do not dare ask me to repeat it. Good Lord, no woman should ever be exposed to such horrors, even second hand.”
    “So, what did you do?”
    “Well, Mrs. Hawthorne, I like a woman to be willing when she comes to my bed, and so I didn't touch her, naturally. Rather, I bought her out, brought her here and employed her as our housekeeper.”
    A glowing smile broke out on Mrs. Hawthorne's lips. It made her eyes light up and her cheeks rosy, and he realized she was beaming at him with the pride of a mother. Good God, he had just ruined his reputation as a playboy in one fell swoop. All because the little twit had begged him to tell his story.
    “Please don't.”
    “Don't what?” she asked.
    “Don't look at me like...well, like that.”
    “I'm sure I don't understand. I'm merely smiling at you. I think it's quite honorable what you did, no matter how you came by her.”
    Andrew didn't miss the hint of censure in her tone and that made him smile again. “Ah, here she is. Mrs. Finch, I will be outside seeing to Daisy, if you would be so kind as to escort Mrs. Hawthorne there when you're done.”
    “Not a problem, milord,” Mrs. Finch said with a wink.
    He wasn't sure what the wink meant, but he decided it was best left ignored.
    He turned to Mrs. Hawthorne to see she stared back at his housekeeper with badly veiled fascination. Good God, she was fascinated by her? Andrew wanted to laugh, but he couldn't, for he realized that just as she was fascinated by Mrs. Finch , he was fascinated by Mrs.