Too Scandalous to Wed Read Online Free PDF Page A

after, I assure you.”
    A bit wary, Henrietta nodded. She smiled at an anxious-looking Jenny, vowing, “I’ll be back soon.”
    Jenny appeared ready to protest, but was quickly ushered away by the attendants.
    Meanwhile, Henrietta was escorted through the ice palace to a nearby salon.
    It wasn’t so much the grandeur of the salon that dazzled Henrietta, as the total turnaround of decor. By stepping over the threshold, she’d departed the pleasures of a Scandinavian ice palace and traveled thousands of miles east to the mystic Orient.
    The footman gestured to a dark red divan. “Mademoiselle.”
    Henrietta settled against the rich cushions. A small fire crackled in the hearth, the smoldering warmth deflected by an exquisitely embroidered Japanese screen.
    “Sherry, mademoiselle?”
    The silver goblet, shaped like a tiger’s head, was delivered into her hand, but Henrietta was too nervous to drink the offered refreshment, so she set the goblet on the lacquered table in front of her, trimmed with ivory ornamentation.
    “Madam Jacqueline will be with you shortly.”
    And with that, the footman bowed and quietly vacated the room. A good thing, too, for Henrietta needed a private moment to gather her wayward thoughts.
    Heavens, what had she gotten herself into? The more time she spent alone in the peculiar wonderland, the more she wondered if perhaps Jenny hadn’t been right. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.
    But then thoughts of Ravenswood entered her mind: how the dratted man treated her like a rebellious pet, and she dismissed her qualms outright. She would not spend the rest of her years pining for the man. She would spend the rest of her years as his wife. And she needed Madam Jacqueline’s assistance to accomplish her goal.
    Henrietta stifled a gasp as the wall gave way—well, a paneled door in the wall—and a figureemerged from the secret nook.
    A rather small figure.
    Draped in flowing silks of Oriental design and sporting a turquoise turban to match, the woman, not more than three score and five years, was an eclectic mix of cultures, and not very pretty at that.
    Oh, it was not the years marking her features that made Henrietta think so, but the hard slant of her jaw, the wide breadth of her nose. Such attributes made Henrietta wonder if she had ever been pretty, even in youth. Though there was something unique about her eyes, a most unnatural shade of mist green. A very captivating pair to be sure. But still, she was England’s most renowned courtesan?
    Henrietta crinkled her brow. “Madam Jacqueline?”
    The small woman settled on a divan opposite Henrietta, her jewels winking in the candlelight. “As you see.”
    Throat a bit parched, Henrietta partook of the sherry. “Ah, thank you for agreeing to see me.”
    “I must admit, I was surprised to receive your letter.”
    Not nearly as surprised as Henrietta was to meet the notorious courtesan. According to the gossip papers, Madam Jacqueline had so enamored a Russian prince, he’d all but made her his royal bride, to the outrage and near revolt of St. Petersburg. She had charmed a French duke so terribly, he’d put a pistol to his head when she’d broken off the affair. And then there was the tale of the ruined Italian noble,so bewitched by Madam Jacqueline that he’d surrendered his entire fortune to her. Or so the stories had claimed. And Henrietta was most curious to know if these stories had been fabricated, too.
    “It is all true, Miss Ashby.”
    Henrietta yelped and placed her fingers over her mouth. Heavens, had she sputtered her thoughts aloud ?
    No. Wait. She had done no such thing. Then how…?
    “You are a witch?” said Henrietta, disquieted.
    The woman laughed, a deep and husky sound, oddly soothing to the ear. “Some might think so, but I assure you, I do not dabble in the black arts.”
    “But you read minds.”
    “Nonsense, child. I read faces. And you are thinking, How can this small, plain, and extravagant