A Compromised Lady by Elizabeth Rolls Read Free Book Online

tiptoed past to his own room…It had been a distinct shock to find a sleepy footman waiting up for him. He’d forgotten to keep his voice down as he told the man never to do such a thing again. He hoped it hadn’t disturbed Thea…He pushed the recurring thought of Thea away. Thea Winslow, sleeping peacefully just down the hallway, was no concern of his. Or she ought not to be.
    No point cutting off your nose to spite your face…she might be your perfect bride…
    Leaving perfect out of it, he had always intended to marry. Marriage had always made complete sense—at some dim, unspecified future time. Apparently the future had arrived. With the purchase of an estate and a London house, marriage was becoming, if not imperative, then at least desirable. All he needed to do was choose the right woman—and of course persuade her that he was the right man. Yes, a sensible, intelligent woman with a sense of humour. She didn’t need to be wealthy, just someone he liked and respected…His stomach clenched—someone who wouldn’t view a child’s broken leg as an interruption to her own life. Someone who wouldn’t mind that her husband had absolutely no ambition to figure in society, but preferred a quiet life in the country with his books and acres, and was happy to remain there with him for the most part. Happy to remain, not self-sacrificing…not complaining that she had nothing to amuse her, and flitting off to yet another house party with her lover—he slammed a lid down on that; there was no point being bitter about the past, but you could learn from it. He added another criterion: honour. He wanted a woman to whom honour was more important than discretion.
    Common sense firmly in place, he permitted his thoughts to turn to Thea. He liked her. He always had. She had always been blazingly honest as a child, and young girl, sometimes when it might have been wiser to dissemble a little. And she was loyal—if she had mourned Nigel Lallerton so deeply, he needed no further proof of that. What if she were the right choice for him? The sensible, logical choice…folly to discount her simply because of Almeria’s entirely predictable matchmaking.
    She was here in the house. It was the perfect opportunity to find out if she really would suit him.
    He caught himself—if they would suit. For all he knew, his bookish habits might drive her to distraction. Or his tendency to leave curls of shaved wood everywhere from his whittling. If their old childhood friendship could become an adult friendship and the basis for a successful marriage…
    an irritatingly rational voice suggested that perhaps he was being a little bit too rational about this, that perhaps he might look for a woman to love…after all, love wasn’t ruining Max’s life. Quite the opposite.
    He rolled over and punched the pillow. That was all very well, but if he hadn’t fallen in love in thirty-two years, what were the odds of it happening now? A sensible marriage would be far more…sensible. Logical.
    Safe.
    His father had loved—and look what that had led to…a totally unsuitable choice. Max had been lucky. Damned lucky.
    There could be no harm in spending time with Thea, and renewing their friendship. He liked that idea. What he didn’t like was the memory of Thea as he had seen her that afternoon, all the old laughter and liveliness quenched. A feeling that was not in the least sensible stole over him…
    whatever had been responsible for the grey shadow in eyes that ought to have been blue—he wanted to remove it.

    Hours after going to bed Thea lay waiting for sleep. Perhaps she should light a lamp and read for a while. The strange bed unnerved her…but it was so late. Surely she would sleep if she closed her eyes and emptied her mind. She had become very good at that over the years—keeping her mind utterly blank, refusing to allow emotion to creep in.
    But now, back in London, among people who had known her as a child, a young girl—even though