The Beautiful One Read Online Free Page B

home—well, the viscount was merely another bully, and she would not be pushed by him.
    Outside the windows of the drawing room, a roll of thunder sounded, followed by a flash of lightning, and its energy steeled her spine.
    â€œEven if I thought that were appropriate, which I do not, I cannot do that. I must return to Rosewood, and you must take up your responsibilities to your ward.”
    â€œDamnation!” he boomed, and her eyes widened as she realized that he wasn’t so very dead inside after all. He certainly had an opinion about this situation. As a viscount, he must have been used to getting his own way, and he doubtless thundered to instant effect. Anna, however, was well versed in manly bluster, and if she’d learned anything from her father and brother, it was not to let emotion rule her and not to back down.
    â€œI’m afraid that where Miss Tarryton stays is now your concern only, Lord Grandville.” She thought of the girl’s white knuckles and felt a pang, but then she reminded herself that not just any young lady would have been up to climbing out her window to meet a man in the dark.
    â€œImpossible! I cannot see to the care of a young lady. No, Miss Tarryton needs firm, feminine guidance, and you appear to be a capable person to provide it. I believe you were ready to push that coach out of the ditch; my ward will be no trouble at all for you. You will take her to an inn tomorrow morning and wait with her until a new school can be found.”
    â€œI will not,” she said, flushing hotly. “I am not in your employ for you to command as you wish.”
    â€œI cannot have her here.”
    His anger came off him, strong enough that she felt she might almost touch it, but she would not bow to it. Mingled with it was something desperate, like the pain of a wounded animal that lashed out at all around it. But he was not an animal; he was a gentleman, of whom civilized behavior must be expected.
    â€œCan you not? You are her uncle by marriage and her guardian.” She thought of Miss Tarryton’s fidgeting in the coach as they drew near the manor and had an insight into the girl’s anxiety. “You never even sent her a letter, did you?”
    * * *
    A bolt of wildness shot through Will. His beloved Ginger was gone, and now her niece had come to Stillwell, hale and hearty and with that beautiful gold-red hair like Ginger’s, to torment him, and he was supposed to welcome her? Never mind the absurd idea that he had anything to offer Elizabeth Tarryton beyond the funds that would take her someplace suitable.
    â€œI bid you good evening,” said the woman. “As it is late, I trust I may avail myself of whatever your manservant can offer me in accommodation for tonight. I will depart in the morning.”
    He watched her dip what was surely an ironic curtsy, doubtless believing she’d resolved things to her satisfaction, and something shattered inside him, perhaps his last remaining tie to civilization. He was so sick of the pain and the anger, of the weight that was always on him. Suddenly all he wanted was escape. This black-haired, sharp-tongued woman with her sapling body under that ugly, faded gown was making him want the one thing that might take him out of himself, even if only for a few minutes.
    There was something about her, too—that boyish energy, those handsome black eyebrows arching over light brown eyes that glinted with some inner force. She was strong, alive, undamaged, and her vigor hinted at forgotten, lively things.
    â€œWait,” he said, even before he knew he was going to speak. An idea was forming in his mind, an idea that should have appalled him, but there was so little left of the person he’d once been that he barely even heard the dying cries of his gentleman’s heart. He crossed his arms. “I have a proposal for you.”
    Wariness crept into her eyes.
    â€œAnna Black, isn’t that your