Their Wicked Ways Read Online Free Page A

‘homeland’, but she had
every intention of thumbing her nose at England’s ‘polite’ society, and then
taking herself, and her fortune, off to America once more.
     
    The opening door broke into
her unpleasant thoughts and Bronte turned to see who their visitors were.
     
    She would’ve liked to have
discovered that neither man was recognizable to her.  Unfortunately, not only
were they not strangers, they had changed very little over the years, except,
possibly, grown more handsome than she remembered.  Her heart lurched painfully
in her chest, pumping hurt through her, and anger.
     
    There had been a time when
she was a little girl that she had worshipped them as young gods, when she had
been desperate for their approval, even so much as a crumb of it.  Isaac, their
junior by three years, had been almost as desperate for it as she was.
     
    That adoration, that
desperation to show them he was good enough, had led him to his death.
     
    She would never forgive them
for that, no more than she could forgive them for the hurtful things that Isaac
had said and done to her, influenced, she knew, by their amused contempt for
her.  If they had not made it so obvious they pitied Isaac for having to take
her as his wife, he might have been willing to accept her, at least, if he
could not bring himself to love her.
     
    Instead, she knew every time
he actually looked at her, every time he came to perform his ‘duty’ that he was
embarrassed to be tied to her because he went to great lengths to keep her
tucked away in the very background of his life.
     
    She’d had a great deal of
practice in concealing her hurt, however, and after a moment she blinked the
blurriness from her eyes, summoned the coldly polite, insincere smile of a
society hostess and moved away from the window.
     
    She knew the moment she did
so that neither Nick nor Darcy had noticed her before.
     
    She also knew that neither
one of them recognized her.  Nick, always the cool one, contained his shock far
better, though she could tell from the slight pallor and the flicker of doubt
and surprise in his eyes the moment recognition hit him.  Darcy merely gaped at
her as if he’d been pole-axed.
     
    “Bronte?” Darcy said
doubtfully.

 
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    Lady Millford tittered
nervously.  “I hardly recognized her myself when she first arrived.”
     
    Lifting her abandoned
needlework from the chair she’d been occupying, Bronte settled, eyeing both men
coolly.  “America agrees with me.  I must suppose it’s the country bumpkin in
me.”
     
    Darcy blinked several times
and glanced at Nick.  Nick, however, had not taken his eyes off of Bronte. 
After several moments he seemed to collect himself and moved to the settee
across from Bronte.  Darcy frowned, looked around the room and finally sat next
to Nick.
     
    “We’d heard you had come
home,” Darcy said after a moment.
     
    Bronte smiled thinly.  “And
the rumor was correct … for once.”  She almost smiled when the two exchanged a
speaking glance, remembering the habit from her childhood.  Then, she’d found
it nothing short of amazing that they seemed so in accord with one another that
they had only to share a look and their minds appeared to work as one, so that
each knew the other’s thoughts precisely.
     
    Lady Millford jangled the
bell on the table beside her nervously, summoning the butler, who’d only just
departed.  “Refreshments for our guests, Fillmore.”
     
    Fillmore nodded and departed
once more.
     
    Bronte slanted an amused
glance at her mother.  Contrary to what Lady Millford apparently feared,
however, she had every intention of behaving politely, regardless of how she
felt about Nick and Darcy.
     
    Darcy cleared his throat. 
“You’re looking well,” he commented.  “You’ve changed.”
     
    Nick sent him a look. “Don’t
be shy, Darcy.  We are old friends here.  Just say precisely what you think.”
     
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