A Lady Never Surrenders by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online Page B

or not?”
    Hetty clutched her cane. “I tell you what. I shall include them if you will reveal what you discussed with Mr. Pinter in the drawing room.”
    “I already told you—”
    “Nonsense. He said something about having an obligation to you.”
    “Yes. An obligation to research my suitors.”
    “Nothing more?”
    Guilty color rose in her granddaughter’s cheeks. “Why would you think there was anything more between me and Mr. Pinter?”
    Because you blush when his name is mentioned. Because he follows you with his eyes. Because I do not know what to make of him, and that worries me.
    It was always better to play dumb until one had all the facts. “Is he to be invited to this house party?”
    “Of course,” Celia said with false-sounding lightness in her voice. “It’s the best way for him to discover information about my suitors.”
    “Then I hope the man has appropriate clothing for the affair. I doubt that Bow Street Runners wear the sort of evening attire suitable for dining with dukes and marquesses.”
    A frown knit Celia’s brow. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
    Good. It was time she considered such things if she had any romantic interest in the man. “Well, no matter.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Considering the large fee he charges, I am sure he can afford to buy what he needs.”
    “I-I didn’t mean for him to suffer any financial burden over this.” Celia’s face showed a worrisome amount of concern for the strain on Mr. Pinter’s pocketbook.
    Hetty levied a searching glance on her. “Should I invite his aunt as well?”
    Celia looked genuinely confused. “I don’t see why. This is no social visit. He’ll be here to work.”
    “Of course.” Hetty let out a breath. Perhaps everything was just as it appeared. Though the girl seemed to be up to something suspicious, it didn’t seem to involve any deep feelings for Mr. Pinter.
    Now if only she could be as sure about Mr. Pinter’s feelings for Celia …
    S TILL BROODING OVER his unsettling bargain with Lady Celia, Jackson hurried into his uncle’s house in Cheapside and headed for his study. He had less than an hour to be at his office to meet with his client, and he had to pick up the report he’d promised the man.
    “Jackson!” Aunt Ada called to him from the parlor.
    “Not now, Aunt,” he barked. “I’m late.”
    Ada Pinter Norris came out into the hall, a wiry little bundle of sheer will. It sometimes amazed him that she and his mother had been sisters. Mother had been tall and dark like him, while the top of Aunt Ada’s graying blond head barely reached his shoulder. “Have you eaten? Don’t answer that—I know you haven’t.”
    He entered his study and scanned his desk but didn’t see the papers. “I have to be at the office by—”
    “Is this what you’re looking for?” she asked.
    He turned to find her waving a sheaf of paper. “Yes, thanks.”
    But when he reached for it, she shoved it behind her back. “Not until you eat.”
    “Oh, for God’s sake, Aunt Ada—”
    “None of that swearing, now. If you mean to be chosen as Chief Magistrate, you can’t talk like a dockworker.”
    With a lift of his eyebrow, he held out his hand. “I won’t be chosen as anything if I don’t satisfy those who require my help.”
    “Humph. They can wait a few minutes.” Her eyes glittered a warning. “I mean it. Don’t make me throw these in the fire.”
    He flashed her his darkest scowl. “You wouldn’t dare.”
    She set her shoulders. “Try me. And while those black looks of yours might intimidate criminals, they won’t work on me. They didn’t when you were ten, so they certainly won’t now.”
    “Then I’ll have to resort to force.” He fought a smile as he stalked toward her. “I outweigh you by a good five stone. I could snatch those papers before you got anywhere near a fire.”
    “I could bash you over the head with a skillet, too.”
    The idea of his sweet-natured aunt bashing him over the