To Dream of Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

defiantly.
    “I am sure Lady Bentley did not receive the message correctly,” said the marquess. “Such a fair angel would not turn her own sister away.”
    “Harriet!” cried Cordelia. “Is it really you?
Stoopid
man, Findlater. I thought you said Crampton.”
    She ran lightly down the stairs and gave Harriet an affectionate hug.
    Then she swung around gaily and smiled bewitchingly up at the marquess. “Here is my little mouse of a sister come from the country. You naughty child, Harriet. You should have apprised me of your arrival. What brings you to town?”
    “To stay with you,” said Harriet, eyeing her sister cynically.
    For one brief moment, Cordelia’s beautiful eyes went hard and cold.
    “But we cannot stand here in the hall,” she said, rallying. “Come upstairs to the drawing room.”
    Once in the drawing room, Cordelia ignored Agnes, who was standing, obviously waiting to be introduced, and drew Aunt Rebecca to a sofa by the fire. Her mind was working furiously. Once the marquess left, she could send her sister and aunt packing.
    Harriet stood looking toward Agnes. “You have not introduced us to this lady.”
    She admired the delicate pink that rose to Cordelia’s cheeks. Now, when I am annoyed, thought Harriet, I go as red as a beetroot.
    Cordelia performed the introductions. “Your sister!” exclaimed Agnes. Her eyes swiveled to the portrait. “But I thought …”
    “What a fusspot you are, Agnes.” Cordelia laughed. “Always thinking the most incoherent thoughts.” She turned to the marquess. “Never tell me you have already met my little sister.”
    “I have had that pleasure,” said the marquess. “We called at Pringle House when we lost our way.”
    “Goodness,” said Cordelia. “You must have found it a sad mess.” She waggled a playful finger at Harriet. “You and Aunt Rebecca are so miserly….”
    “On the contrary, dear sister,” said Harriet in a flat voice, “you know we have barely enough to live on—hence our visit to you.”
    Cordelia’s thin eyebrows vanished under her hairline. “Am I to take it,” she said in a silky voice, “that you have
really
come to stay?”
    “Yes,” said Harriet stoutly. “Our trunks are in the hall.”
    Turning her back on the marquess and Mr. Hudson, Cordelia silently mouthed, “Oh, no, you don’t.”
    “Famous!” exclaimed Mr. Hudson. “You will be a welcome addition to this Season’s beauties. Miss Harriet.”
    The marquess looked from Cordelia’s flushed face to Harriet’s mutinous one and drawled, “Indeed, Lady Bentley, your beauty is heightened by your magnaminity. It is not every reigning belle who would welcome her little sister at the beginning of the Season. When hospitality and kindness are added to beauty, I find the sum total most … seductive.”
    “Why, I never
thought
of turning away dear Harriet or Aunt Rebecca. I quite
dote
on them,” said Cordelia with a charming smile. “Dear, dear Harriet, you must be exhausted after your journey.” Cordelia rang the bell. When Findlater appeared, she tripped lightly over to the door and murmured something in his august ear. Findlater inclined his head and replied in a low voice.
    “Splendid!” said Cordelia, swinging about and clapping her hands. “Your rooms are ready and you may
both
retire. Agnes, do go with them. I am sure Mr. Hudson will be a most splendid chaperon.”
    “I had hoped for a little conversation with Miss Harriet,” said Mr. Hudson stiffly.
    “You will have plenty of chances in the weeks to come. Agnes!” Cordelia’s lilting voice held a note of steel.
    Harriet curtsied to the marquess and then to Mr. Hudson. Cordelia had already turned away and was bending over the teapoy, extracting canisters of tea. The graceful curve of her body thrust her breasts against the thin fabric of her gown. Harriet glanced at the marquess and noticed a yellow, predatory light in his hooded eyes as he looked at Cordelia. She felt a pang of