A Little Bit Sinful Read Online Free Page A

when she wondered how her life would have been if she had been free to take a risk, to follow her heart.
    Eleanor pulled the white thread slowly throughthe delicate fabric, careful not to mar the lovely material of the gown she was remaking for Bianca. The dress had originally been Eleanor’s, a remnant of her disastrous debut Season. It was long out of fashion, but the quality of the material was timeless and with a bit of clever needlework it was a serviceable gown. More than serviceable, really, since anything Bianca wore looked elegant and refined.
    The earl was not overly generous when it came to his daughters’ upkeep. By necessity, Eleanor had perfected her sewing skills, remaking many older gowns for herself and her sister. These days she spent far less time on her own garments, for she was determined that Bianca always appear in fresh, fashionable clothes.
    Eleanor was debating whether to embroider a floral design at the base of the gown’s bodice when she heard the sound of heavy-booted feet stomping down the hall. Her hands stilled as she strained her ears, listening for the deep, booming voice that would certainly accompany them. It came all too soon, shouting at one of the footmen to open the drawing room door.
Father.
    Eleanor swallowed hard, hoping to calm the sudden pain in her stomach. Before she had a chance to fully compose herself, the door swung open and the Earl of Hetfield stalked inside.
    Though well into his sixtieth year, the earl was still a handsome man. Tall, commanding, with a head of silver hair and a pair of piercing dark eyes, he dominated any room.
    “Papa! You’ve come home.” Bianca rushed forward to embrace him.
    Eleanor stayed seated. He was not the sort ofparent who liked to show affection, though he tolerated Bianca’s attention without too much protest. As for herself, well, Eleanor could not recall an instance when her father had eagerly bestowed a hug to either of his daughters.
    “Careful there, girl, or you’ll crush my coat,” the earl grumbled.
    Eleanor’s shoulders stiffened at the callous remark, but Bianca laughed and hugged the earl tighter. For an instant she envied her sister’s naïveté. It protected her from hurt.
    “I’m sure there is not a wrinkle to be found anywhere on your illustrious person, my lord,” Eleanor said, eyeing his pristine white cravat and polished black boots. “Your valet would never allow it.”
    The earl tipped back his head and glanced at her, his brows drawing into a frown of puzzlement.
Good Lord, does he not even know who I am?
Her mouth dry, Eleanor forced her eyes to meet his, a shaky smile forming on her lips.
    “I need a drink,” the earl declared abruptly. “The roads from Town were a disaster.”
    “Let me get it for you, Papa,” Bianca offered.
    Without waiting for his answer, Bianca skipped over to the sideboard. Her lower lip curled under in confusion as she contemplated the trio of crystal decanters and variously shaped glasses.
    “Brandy,” Eleanor said, pointing to the tallest decanter. “And use the snifter.”
    “I’m surprised you remembered,” the earl remarked as he swirled the generous portion of amber liquid in the glass Bianca handed him.
    “I have an excellent memory,” Eleanor said, wishing she had the nerve to ask for a drink for herself.She rarely drank spirits, except for an occasional glass of wine with dinner. Yet she had a sinking feeling that this afternoon she was in need of a dose of false courage.
    “Memory is a most unappealing trait,” the earl said as he sat down. “Especially in a woman of your years, Eleanor.” Raising the glass to his mouth, the earl downed the contents in a single swallow.
    “You haven’t journeyed all this way for a drink,” Eleanor snapped, angry at the sting of hurt his words produced. Despite her best efforts, he still possessed the power to wound her. “Is there something specific you wanted?”
    “I have come to take Bianca to Town,” the earl