A Lady Never Surrenders by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online

in his roused everything he’d been trying to suppress during this interview.
    He couldn’t seem to let go. For such a small-boned female, she had a surprisingly firm grip. Her hand was like her—fragility and strength all wrapped in beauty. He had a mad impulse to lift it to his lips and press a kiss to her creamy skin.
    But he was no Lancelot to her Guinevere. Only in legend did lowly knights dare to court queens.
    Releasing her hand before he could do something stupid, he sketched a bow. “Good day, my lady. I’ll begin my investigation at once and report to you as soon as I learn something.”
    He left her standing there, a goddess surrounded by the aging glories of an aristocrat’s mansion. God save him—this had to be the worst mission he’d ever undertaken, one he was sure to regret.
    I prefer not to marry a fortune hunter.
    With a scowl, he tucked her bracelet into his coat pocket. No, she only preferred fools and lechers and sons of madmen. As long as they were rich and titled, she was content, because then she knew they weren’t after her money.
    Yet he couldn’t even despise her for that. Traveling between two worlds made him all the more aware of how hard it would be to live in the one he hadn’t been born to.
    Still …
    I know what you think of me.
    If he wasn’t careful, one day he’d show her exactly what he thought of her. But if that day came, he’d better be prepared for the consequences.

Chapter Four
     
    H etty was finishing up a conversation with Gabe’s wife, Virginia, when she saw Mr. Pinter leave the blue parlor, looking agitated.
    Had he been in there with Celia all this time? Alone?
    That could not be good. The others thought he and Celia hated each other, but Hetty was not so sure, at least on his part. The man watched the girl when he thought no one was looking.
    What Hetty wanted to know was why. Did Celia actually interest him? Or was the Runner hoping to further his ambitions by marrying a rich wife? It would not be the first time a man of low degree had levered his position as an employee of a great family into a more direct connection.
    Either way, he should not be having private conversations with Celia.
    Virginia walked off, leaving Hetty to block Mr. Pinter’s path as he approached. “I take it that my granddaughter has been giving you the rough side of her tongue again.”
    He halted, an inscrutable expression on his face. “Not at all,” he said smoothly. “We had a perfectly cordial conversation.”
    “And may I ask what it concerned?”
    “No, you may not.”
    She frowned. “How very unaccommodating of you, Mr. Pinter. Have you forgotten that you are in my grandson’s employ?”
    “I have obligations to others in your family also, which means I owe them my discretion. So if that’s all—”
    “What obligations could you possibly have to my granddaughter?” Hetty demanded as she saw Celia leave the parlor and catch sight of them.
    Celia hurried up. “Leave him be, Gran. He’s doing what Oliver hired him to do—investigating my suitors. We were consulting on that.”
    “Oh.” Hetty glanced at Mr. Pinter. The man could be so damned hard to read sometimes. “Why didn’t you say so, Mr. Pinter?”
    “Because I’m in something of a hurry, madam. So if you’ll both excuse me, I’ll bid you good day.”
    With a cursory bow, he strode off. Hetty noticed that Celia watched him go with the same sort of veiled interest that he sometimes had in watching her.
    Her eyes narrowed. There had to be more to this than they were saying. They had been in that parlor an awfully long time. And Mr. Pinter’s responses had bordered on rudeness. The man was direct and frank, but never rude.
    Her granddaughter, on the other hand … “He seemed in an awful rush to get away. What did you say to him in there, anyway?”
    Two spots of color appeared on Celia’s cheeks, another alarming sign that something was afoot. “I merely laid out everything he needed to know to gain