Wallflower Gone Wild Read Online Free PDF Page B

would think so as well.
    Her mother shrieked before clamping her gloved hand over her mouth and muffling her sobs with one of her handkerchiefs. Her father, clearly mortified, reddened considerably. His jaw clenched and his eyes bulged under the strain of withholding an enormous bellow of rage.
    Olivia never made her parents angry. In fact, this was the first time she was the subject of anything other than praise. She felt her stomach twist. It took every ounce of her determination not to run upstairs, scrub her face, and return with her sincerest apologies. Any such instinct vanished when she set eyes on the loathsome man himself.
    The Mad Baron—who was indeed a corpulent elderly man with a dark scowl of disapproval—loudly cleared his throat of phlegm. Olivia did not conceal her shudder of revulsion. The thought of sharing a bed with this man strengthened her resolve immeasurably.
    She would not marry the loathsome man who looked so dismissively at her. She would not have him touch her. Honestly, she should have drenched a bottle of perfume on herself as well.
    The other man—his solicitor, presumably—stepped forward and provided more of a heart-stopping shock.
    She recognized his captivating green eyes and his mouth, which she had almost kissed.
    The scar she had noted in the candlelight was far more foreboding in the daylight.
    The handsome stranger merely lifted one brow. Olivia thought his lips might have quirked up at the corners—dear God, he was laughing at her! Dear God, this was more mortifying than she had expected.
    Perhaps the solicitor was amenable to bribery—and if so, she’d just need to fetch her pin money in exchange for him burning the marriage documents. Then she hoped never to see him or the Mad Baron again.
    “Olivia! Go upstairs immediately,” her mother hissed.
    “Whatever for?” she inquired, as if she had no idea, honestly.
    “What impertinence!” her mother gasped. Olivia felt an odd thrill. She’d never been impertinent in her life.
    “Never mind that, wife. Let’s get on with the introductions and this bloody tea party,” Lord Archer said with a furious look at his daughter. His cheeks reddened to the color of a soldier’s red jacket. Olivia hadn’t seen that shade since she had unwittingly used his smuggled French brandy during a tea party with her dolls. “Lord Radcliffe, may I present my daughter Lady Olivia,” Lord Archer ground out. “I have no idea what has gotten into her. Or on her face.”
    But it wasn’t the corpulent old man with the beady eyes who stepped forward. For a second Olivia felt relief. That is, before the truth of it dawned upon her.
    Lord Radcliffe—the man she’d presumed to be the solicitor, the man who was her handsome stranger—fixed his gaze on her raccoon eyes and bowed slightly. A tremor of fear rocketed up her spine.
    She had nearly kissed a murderer! Thank God she hadn’t.
    “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Lady Olivia.” It was the Mad Baron himself, bending over her outstretched hand. He wasn’t what she had expected, but he terrified her all the same. His gaze fixed on her was unnerving, as if he were memorizing her to think of later.
    The scar, she noted, stretched from his temple to his sharply slanting cheekbone, just below his eye. Was it the work of his late wife, acting violently in self-defense? Olivia assumed so.
    His mouth was full. Sensual. It was the kind of mouth she might have imagined kissing if it weren’t curved into a faintly bemused smile. He thought her ridiculous. Good.
    Olivia merely stared at him in horror. The kohl made her eyes twitch. Her lips tasted like bitter paint. She ought to say, It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord, but the words stuck in her throat.
    Her wits struggled to function, save for one thought: she should have added more paint. Or fled already. Her knees weakened as she took note of his towering height and broad shoulders. He could overpower her in an instant