Stages of Desire Read Online Free

“I’m a man of science. I don’t believe in ghosts or curses or any such nonsense. The fire probably started because someone was careless with a candle and the actor most likely fell off the stage because he was drunk.”
    She smiled, showing even, white teeth. “I do believe he was drunk. How did you know?”
    â€œScience. I assume all actors are drunkards.”
    â€œThat’s a strong presumption. Have you ever attended a play?”
    â€œNo. My father used to say they were full of foxed vagabonds. But it appears you’ve been to quite a few.” As soon as he said the words, William realized he’d taken his remarks too far.
    It was as if he’d slapped her. The animation dropped from her face and she scowled. “I must be going back to the ball.”
    He stepped forward, closer to her. “One moment, tell me how you know so much about Shakespeare. Your study appears to be more in depth than most.”
    â€œMy family is involved in the theater.”
    William took a sip of his brandy, anger rising in his blood. He should’ve known. She was probably part of his late brother’s circle of troublemakers, and had sneaked in uninvited. No matter how fascinating her appeal, he knew more than he cared to about the proclivities of women in the theater and the myriad ways they ensnared men, including his brother.
    He finished the brandy and set the glass down on the table. The alcohol seared his gullet. “Your family? In the theater?”
    â€œYes. My father runs a company of strolling players. They’re quite renowned.”
    â€œI’m sure they are.” His tone was severe. “As far as I’m concerned, the entire profession, if you can call it that, is a travesty. Even in Shakespeare’s day, theater was a way to please the masses, the lowest of the low. An effective method to keep the underclass entertained and amused. I prefer the opera myself.”
    She jutted out her chin. “May I remind you that Queen Elizabeth was a great patron of the playwright? Our company plays to quality, including dukes and duchesses. The acting is excellent. With the slightest inflection my father can move the audience to tears, or make them think about important themes, like life and death.”
    â€œSo why aren’t you off playing Lady Macbeth right now?”
    â€œYou ought to say ‘Lady M.’ And I’m not a part of that life anymore.”
    â€œSo you’ve come up in the world.”
    He could have sworn she stomped one foot beneath her gown. “How on earth can you judge an entire profession when you’ve never been inside a theater? Who exactly do you think you are?”
    William laughed. She had no idea who he was, which might explain why she hadn’t fluttered her eyelashes at him like the other girls he’d met, playing the part of the flirtatious chit.
    â€œI will introduce myself, then.”
    He bowed low, never taking his eyes off her.
    â€œI am Abingdon. And the pleasure is all mine.”

Chapter 2
    Harriet had made a terrible mistake. She clamped her lips tightly, trying to keep her jaw from dropping as the air rushed out of her. Here she was, a guest at Lord Abingdon’s, the man who was to wed Marianne, and she was blithely handling the books in his private library as if she were the queen. She curtseyed. Hopefully the red flush rising up her neck didn’t show in the dim light.
    â€œYou seem surprised.”
    She couldn’t tell from his voice if he was amused or irritated. Her eyes were drawn once again to the family portrait above the fireplace. She’d studied it when she first entered the room, intrigued by the severe countenance on the father’s face and the sweet smile of the countess sitting beside him, surrounded by fair-headed children. None of the offspring had the reddish-brown hair of the man standing before her. Looking closer, she observed one boy had a sprinkling of