Miss Phipps and the Cattle Baron Read Online Free

operation. Now, as you can see," she said,
spreading her arms as if to encompass the entire room, "I have a
lot of work ahead of me before we can move my equipment into the
building, so I ask that you leave now so that I can begin the
task."
    Jaw muscles bunched, eyes narrowed in
displeasure, Lord Whittington stalked through the doorway. But as
Priscilla was about to close the door, he turned and braced his
hand against it, and said, "Tell Miss Burns that I will expect to
hear directly from her that she wants to break our contract. She
will not find a better arrangement than what I have to offer. My
ranch house is large and comfortable, and my house on17th Street is
suited for entertaining, with double parlors and a dining room that
can accommodate large dinner parties. It also has an impressive
library, master suites on both the ground floor and the second
floor, and five other bedrooms, each with their own bathrooms. And
I have a staff of servants to see to running the house."
    For one long dreamy moment, Priscilla
imagined herself in that grand house, sitting on a bed covered in
silk sheets, with a light wrapper draped around her shoulders, and
the man in her line of vision would be walking toward her, and
she'd drop the wrapper from around herself, and she'd be wearing
nothing under it...
    Her breath quickened, and her heart started a
staccato beat.
    Steeling herself from such outrageous
notions, she said in a clipped, dry tone, "You present a very
tempting offer for many women, Lord Whittington, but I assure you,
Mary Kate Burns is not one of them. She is a modest young woman who
has no desire to entertain in the way you would expect your wife to
entertain for you. And she has made up her mind. Good evening."
Priscilla slammed the door firmly in his face.
    The man set her on edge, caused her to have
thoughts no decent woman should have, least of all a spinster
nearing forty who had never had intimate relations with a man in
her life. Who'd never even been kissed by a man. But when Lord
Whittington stood looking at her, she'd felt an almost
irrepressible urge to reach out and touch him...
    Along with a pressing need to remove him from
her presence.
    Which she had done, in no uncertain terms.
Tomorrow she'd face the ramification of her brash action in
slamming the door in the man's face. For now, she fanned herself
with her hand, wondering what was coming over her.

CHAPTER TWO
     
    'She prides herself on her father and
    glories in him, everybody saying that
    she also resembles him.'
    — Venetian ambassador
Giovanni Michiel
    about Elizabeth, in1557
     
    Priscilla looked at herself in the mirror —an
older version of the read-headed schoolgirl who'd fancied herself
descended from Good Queen Bess . It started when she'd found
a color plate of Queen Elizabeth in a history book, the color of
the queen's hair catching her attention. She'd gone on to read in
the book that Elizabeth had King Henry's pale complexion, golden
lashes, and curly copper-red hair, and Anne Boleyn's oblong face
and pointed chin, wide-set almond-shaped eyes, and pronounced
cheekbones. But unlike Anne Boleyn's clear, unmarred complexion,
Elizabeth had freckles on her pallid skin.
    As Priscilla studied her reflection, the
color plate came back in vivid detail. It had depicted Queen
Elizabeth in her late thirties, the age Priscilla was now, and the
likeness was even more striking than when Priscilla was a girl of
fourteen with only a hint of the woman she would become. Everything
about her face resembled the queen now, except her nose didn't have
the hook Elizabeth inherited from Henry, nor did she have
Elizabeth's teeth, rotting from decay.
    She leaned closer and peered into her eyes.
Elizabeth's had been described as hazel by some, golden-brown by
others, and even agate-grey in one account. But it was said that
the varying effects of Elizabeth's eyes were produced by the
combination of Elizabeth's large black pupils and light falling
across the irises,