Indiscreet Read Online Free Page A

There was no mistaking his voice for anything but that of a mature man, which, to be honest, was a pleasant change from the eager young soldiers and sailors she found so tiresome. "I should like my fortune read properly, Miss Godard."

    She returned her gaze to his teacup. "I endeavor, my lord."

    - Lord Foye was not a handsome man. She had, in fact, been watching him since the moment he came in, even before she knew who he was. How could one not? He was tremendously tall, and, as Godard had so baldly pointed out, not very handsome. If one felt inclined to generosity, and she had not yet made up her mind on that account, one might call him an arresting man.

    "You will take a journey soon," she said.

    He leaned forward to peer into the cup with her, a motion that put their heads close together. He smelled slightly of sandalwood. "What tells you that?"

    "This arrangement here." She pointed to the place she meant. "Three horseshoes in near proximity to each other. Nearer the handle than farther, so the time of your journey is closer to the present than it is distant. Your more immediate future."

    'Those are horseshoes?"

    "Yes." By now, she didn't care what shapes the tea leaves made, which in the event was nothing much at all. This was, indeed, complete nonsense. She could no more tell someone's fortune with tea leaves than she could detect a scoundrel before it was too late to avoid making his acquaintance. The clumps near the handle of the cup were vaguely U-shaped; therefore, she styled them horseshoes.

    Her idea of reading tea leaves seemed an unlucky decision now. She'd thought to amuse herself and perhaps a few others, that was all, not find herself cornered by some crony of Crosshaven's. "Horseshoes arranged just so signify you will soon go on a journey."

    And may it be soon, she thought She wanted to be nowhere near Lord Foye. She wanted nothing to do with anyone who knew Lord Crosshaven.

    "I am on one now," he pointed out.

    She glanced up. 'The tea leaves do not tell your past" His eyes were guileless, completely clear of any salacious motive concerning her. Some of the tension in her shoulders fell away. But not all. He had been careful to make sure she knew of his acquaintance with Lord Crosshaven, and now she must work out why he would have done so, if not to suggest his willingness for an affair. He would not be the first man to make her such a proposition. "The leaves show only the future as it might be at the time you overturned your cup, my lord."

    He waved a hand. His fingers were long and slender. He did not wear any jewelry. "Do carry on."

    "You will journey through rugged terrain, as you may see from the lines surrounding the horseshoes." She improvised, as she had during all her readings so far. "Mountains, I suspect. The second horseshoe implies your journey will be a pleasant one, but I think—" She tapped the tabletop with a fingertip. While she did not believe in fortune-telling, she saw no reason not to attempt to follow the geometrical logic. She found it a rather stimulating exercise. "With the mountains surrounding, one should interpret this as an arduous journey successfully made. Yes, I think that is the correct divination." Travel in Turkey and the Levant was never easy, so she took no great risk there. "Now, this third horseshoe portends a woman."

    Lord Foye looked uninterested in that possibility.

    "Lady Foye, perhaps?" she said in a sweet voice.

    "No," he said after too long a silence. "There is no Lady Foye."

    She looked up, interested more by his flat tone of voice than by his declaration of bachelorhood. He wasn't looking at her. His attention was interior, on some deep and private pain. She hadn't expected to see anguish, yet that was what she saw in his eyes, and her heart pinched a little on his behalf.

    "Another woman, then," she said. Looking at Lord Foye, with his irregularly put together face, was suddenly too intimate an experience. His eyes were too raw with loss.