How the Scoundrel Seduces Read Online Free Page B

his suspicious gaze swung to hers, she cringed. Why must she always speak the first thing that came into her head? No matter how she tried to behave as Mama had taught her, sometimes her mouth just said what it pleased, and to hell with the consequences.
    She winced. Not hell. Ladies didn’t so much as think the word hell, not even ladies whose papas used the word regularly while teaching their daughters how to manage the estates they would one day inherit.
    Sucking in a breath, she added sweetly, “I can’t imagine that the famous Duke’s Men would forget an appointment. Perhaps they came in the back.”
    After the risks she’d taken to meet with them, the thought of being thwarted because they were all out investigating made her want to scream.
    He sighed. “Wait here. I’ll see if anyone’s in.” He darted up the stairs like a spider up a web.
    As soon as he was out of earshot, Ralph grumbled, “Still don’t see why you want to consult with investigators. Your father would gladly find out whatever you wish to know.”
    Oh, no, he wouldn’t. She’d already determined that. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing that will get you into any trouble.”
    It was only the entirety of her future, but she couldn’ttell Ralph that. None of the servants could ever know of this.
    The door opened behind her. “Well, well, what have we here?”
    She froze. She would recognize that voice anywhere. Oh, botheration, why did it have to be him ?
    Steadying herself for battle, she faced Mr. Bonnaud . . . only to be struck speechless.
    This wasn’t the Mr. Bonnaud she’d encountered in the woods near Kinlaw Castle, when she’d extracted her promise from the Duke’s Men. That fellow had been barrel-chested, thick-waisted, and rough-looking, with a floppy hat and a beard that hid most of his face.
    Oh, right, supposedly he’d been wearing a disguise.
    It had been most effective. Because the man before her now wasn’t remotely burly or bearded or badly dressed. He was lean and handsome and garbed almost fashionably, if one could call a sober riding coat of dark gray wool, a plain black waistcoat, tight buff trousers, and scuffed boots fashionable.
    Not that any woman would care about his clothes, when his broad shoulders and his muscular thighs filled them out so well. Heaven save her.
    Then he removed his top hat of gray beaver to reveal a profusion of thick black curls worthy of a Greek god, and she stifled a sigh. The combination of his aristocratic nose and finely crafted jaw with that hair was stunning. Absolutely stunning.
    No wonder his name was so often linked to beautiful actresses and dancers. With those fierce blue eyesand that seducer’s shapely mouth, he probably spent half his time in bed with willing females.
    The images that rose in her mind made her curse her wild imagination. Ladies weren’t supposed to think about that either.
    He looked closely at her, and recognition leapt in those splendid eyes. “Lady Zoe,” he said, bowing.
    “Good afternoon, Mr. Bonnaud.”
    He crooked up one eyebrow. “Finally decided to call in your favor, did you?”
    With a furtive glance at Ralph, who avidly watched the exchange, she said, “I wish to consult with you and your companions, yes.”
    Just then Mr. Shaw returned. “Ah, there you are, Mr. Bonnaud. Is Mr. Manton with you?”
    “He’s tying up some loose ends, but he said he’d be along shortly.”
    “I understand. As usual, ‘Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides.’ ” Mr. Shaw nodded to her. “This lady claims to have an appointment with the . . . er . . . Duke’s Men.”
    The Shakespeare quote threw Zoe off guard. Had Mr. Shaw guessed that she was hiding something?
    She watched Mr. Bonnaud warily, preparing herself for anything. So when he had the audacity to wink at her, it surprised her—and sent a little thrill along her spine that was too annoying for words.
    “She does indeed,” he said, eyes agleam, “a rather long-standing one.