Lady in Blue Read Online Free Page B

he expected. Nor what she wanted to be.
    When they came face-to-face, anything could happen.

2
    Bryn waited for Clare in the library of his townhouse on St. James’s Square. He’d thought to pass the time between breakfast and her arrival by catching up on some paperwork, but he found himself unable to concentrate. Turning his back on the papers strewn over the enormous desk, he gazed into a lovely garden.
    It was that view which had inspired him to have a platform constructed, about eight inches high, to hold his desk and chair. Without the added height, his vision was obstructed by a wide ornamental panel halfway up the ceiling-to-floor panes of glass. Into the platform was built a device that allowed him to rotate his chair without standing up to turn it around. He dabbled with inventions, most of them designed to enhance his comfort and pleasure, some more successful than others. The library was unusable for the three months it took to get the revolving chair to work smoothly, and a faint odor of grease still permeated the room.
    He did his best thinking in that chair, arms folded behind his head, gazing into the garden. But, unaccountably, today he was too itchy to stay seated. He moved to the large bay window and pressed his forehead against the glass, infuriated by his own eagerness to meet the mysterious virgin in blue and find out what made her think she could demand a fortune for relinquishing the title.
    And what made Florette think he was going to pay it?
    Did she figure he was in no position to reject Clare whatever-her-name-was? Hell, he wasn’t that desperate. And damned if he’d be extorted. He hated the idea of satisfying Flo in her little game. He was tempted to declare the Blue Lady unsuitable at first glance and send her back like an unopened parcel.
    Which fine display of temper and ego would net him precisely nothing. Given the alternative—celibacy—he was in no position to thumb his nose at Flo for the brief satisfaction of bettering her. The Lady in Blue was the last virgin, until he found another reliable source. Or a bride.
    It was unlikely he’d agree to her outrageous price, but he found himself wishing the chit would somehow find a way to convince him otherwise. He pulled out his watch. Where the devil was she? It was five minutes past eleven. No woman kept him waiting. He would make that very clear to her.
    More time passed before he heard the discreet knock on the door. “Come,” he called, his voice unnaturally harsh. He swung around, curled fists planted on his hips, poised for his first real look at her.
    She was veiled, gloved, and swathed from neck to ankles in a dark blue gown exactly as before. She came into the room and paused, hands at her sides. Behind her, the butler stood indecisively.
    The earl waved his hand. “That will be all, Walters. No interruptions.” Walters bowed out, closing the door behind him.
    Clare stood without moving. She was, Bryn thought, the stillest creature he’d ever seen. She scarcely seemed to breathe.
    “You are late,” he said coldly.
    “Your carriage was late.” Her voice, a pleasant low alto, was expressionless. She crossed the room—he might describe it as a glide—until she stood in front of the desk, head tilted to look up at him.
    “Be seated,” he said, determined not to give her the satisfaction of asking her to lift that damnable veil.
    Two large chairs were angled by the corners of the platform. She chose the one to his left, settling gracefully on its edge with her hands folded in her lap.
    He sat too, leaning forward with his elbows propped on the desk, hands templed, chin resting lightly on his fingertips. “And just what is it, young woman,” he asked bluntly, “that makes you worth ten thousand pounds?”
    She lifted her head. “That, my lord, is for you to decide.” Slowly, she drew up the veil with both hands and removed the hat. As if granting a favor, she allowed him to look at her face.
    What he saw took his