A Compromised Lady by Elizabeth Rolls Read Free Book Online Page A

her body ached with tiredness, the thoughts and feelings held sleep at bay.
    A little spark of anger flared in a dark corner of her heart, a corner she never looked into. From her father’s point of view, her marriage now was an unquestioned necessity. She rolled over and thumped the pillow. She would not, under any circumstances, acquiesce to any match proposed by her father.
    The little spark had caught, lighting up the corner. Thea shut her eyes to it, dousing it. She wouldn’t look there. She mustn’t. Better that it remained shadowed. Hidden from the light. If she permitted herself to feel anything again…anger, hurt…even love, she pushed them all away. Safer to remain calm. Unmoved. As untouched as she could ever be.
    The news would be all over London that Miss Winslow, only daughter of Viscount Aberfield and heiress to fifty thousand pounds, was residing in Grosvenor Square with Lady Arnsworth. She would be sought out. Courted, flattered, every social distinction pressed upon her.
    The thought sickened her.
    Money bought acceptance; with fifty thousand pounds, as long as the truth remained a whisper, the past would be ignored by many. Not by all, but many including her own father.
    She gritted her teeth. She didn’t want that sort of acceptance anyway. Especially not from Aberfield. Uncle James had shown more understanding and affection for her than her own father.
    He had been prepared to believe her innocence and reverse his decision to disinherit her. Aberfield had reinstated her only because of the money. It was easier somehow to think of him as Aberfield, not Papa. It wasn’t as though he wanted her as his daughter. All he wanted was for her money to secure a husband of benefit to himself.
    A queer thought came to her—she doubted that her money would buy Richard’s good opinion if ever he knew the truth. She could count on his honesty. She shivered, and drew the blankets closer. Why was she thinking of Richard anyway? How could she know what he had become? She hadn’t seen him since her come-out ball.
    The memory slipped past her defences. He had danced with her that night, laughing because her wretched hair was escaping, enjoying the ball as much as she, although he rarely danced because of his leg. He had danced with her twice, and then she hadn’t seen him again until today.
    She pushed the memory away. Richard would be revolted if he knew the truth; at best he would feel sorry for her.
    She didn’t want pity. She wanted nothing of anyone. She didn’t need anyone—she could stand by herself. And in less than three months she would be free. Only…what on earth would she do with her freedom once she had it? She would enjoy it, that was what. And in the meantime she would enjoy herself now. Here. In London. She was not going to permit her fears to rule her life—she would not wait for her twenty-fifth birthday to release her, she would begin now. Tomorrow—no, it was tomorrow already. Today. She would begin today. She had put off enough tomorrows.

    Thea arose early the following morning and dressed without summoning a maid—she could manage her short wraparound stays herself. Unsurprisingly when she went downstairs, she found the breakfast parlour empty. Having been out the previous evening, Lady Arnsworth would probably not arise until noon. Fully expecting to have to ring for tea and toast, she was startled to find a varied selection of food set out in chafing dishes on the sideboard, including, to her great surprise, sirloin.
    Puzzled at this very masculine inclusion, Thea helped herself to toast, poached eggs and ham, and made a pot of tea from the urn steaming in the corner.
    She enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, and afterwards sipped her tea with lingering enjoyment, wondering what she might do with her day. A day in which she might do precisely as she pleased.
    Contemplating this rare treasure, Thea poured another cup of tea. She might take one of the maids and go for a walk. She could