Lady Pamela Read Online Free

Lady Pamela had deflected every question related to Lord Torrance, every not-so-chance comment, with studied indifference.
    “The duke? Of Grentham, you mean? Yes, his costume was quite fine, I suppose...”
    No doubt Lady Detweiler could have extracted the truth had she wished. But Amanda had hesitated to confront Lady Pam, who had heretofore trusted her with every confidence. The freedom not to confide, in Amanda’s experience, was essential to friendship. And after all, what possible troubles could have descended upon the beautiful and much admired Pamela Sinclair? Lady Detweiler had given up thoughts of a direct attack and had waited, biding her time.
    So patience is rewarded, thought Amanda. How dreary.
    “The night of the wedding ball...” began Lady Pamela, haltingly.
    Charles and Helène’s wedding ball? Amanda nodded to herself. She had watched Pamela and the duke waltzing at the Luton Court ball, and noticed the tension between them. A lover’s spat, she had supposed, knowing both lady and gentleman too well to believe that either had committed a real offense. And ’twas a vile anger, in Amanda’s book, that could not be turned to passion.
    But Lady Pamela had danced with him only once, had she not? Lady Detweiler frowned. She seemed to recall Pam spending the last half of the evening in the company of several harmless, adoring third cousins, and as for Lord Torrance, Amanda couldn’t remember seeing him at all after the first waltz.
    “The duke...” said Lady Pamela. Her words were so soft that several moments passed before Amanda realized that her friend had continued speaking.
    “The duke?” she prompted, resisting the urge to take Pam by the shoulders and give her a good shake. Yes, yes, the duke. Now, what about him?
    “Asked...Lord Torrance asked me...”
    The duke asked Lady Pamela...? Lady Detweiler’s mind, never slow, at once rushed forward, making the obvious leap. The Duke of Grentham had asked Lady Pam to become his mistress! All those months ago at Luton... And after knowing her only a matter of weeks. It was not surprising to think that Pam had attracted notice from such a man; still, Amanda thought she now understood the source of her friend’s pain.
    Pamela Sinclair had been one man’s mistress already. And although Pam had truly rejoiced in Edward Tremayne’s marriage to the lovely Claire and did not grieve his loss, her days as a chère amie were over. She had never said as much, not in so many words, but Amanda knew it to be true. And now, for the duke to ask her to–
    “... become his wife,” continued Pamela, almost in a whisper. She colored deeply, and turned away from Lady Detweiler. Amanda, still enmeshed in her own thoughts, frowned. What had Lady Pamela just said?
    “I beg your pardon?”
    Pam took a deep breath. “Lord Torrance asked me to marry him. Last winter. At Luton.”
    Lady Detweiler stared. “But–”
    “Amanda, don’t say anything. Don’t say anything . I know, I should have told you.”
    “But–”
    “I couldn’t even bear to think about it myself, I couldn’t think about him. I wanted to tell you.”
    This was too much for Lady Detweiler. “For pity’s sake!” she cried, flinging her arms out and nearly spilling the glass of brandy, “who cares a fig what you should have told me! What did you tell him ?”
    * * * *
    “H’ya!”
    Lord Benjamin Torrance, the Duke of Grentham, checked the reins sharply and brought Xairephon, his roan gelding, to a prancing halt. The duke’s Wiltshire estate boasted little in the way of hills; still, the ground rose slightly to the east, and he was high enough to enjoy a sweeping view of the green fields of sweet hay, and to see his home–Corsham Manor–in the distance. The house was a rambling, many-gabled structure, and the most beautiful dwelling in the world, in its owner’s eyes.
    Benjamin drank in the cool morning air, appreciative as always of the difference in climate between Wiltshire and central