A Man Above Reproach by Evelyn Pryce Read Free Book Online

she spent a great deal of her nights at the Dove, and he could probably infer what she was doing. Many parts of the book alluded to the nefarious aspects of the Dove, though it did not name them nor did it name the establishment. He was a sharp man, for someone raised in nobility. He was not as soft-skulled as the peers of her previous acquaintance, but he was miles more self-important.
    Proven by the fact that he was currently stalking over to her.
    “Of all the—” he started.
    With all the composure she could muster, she faced him, one finger in the air to stop his assault of words.
    “Your Grace. I am not being paid to speak with you this evening. I must practice the introduction, as the girls are counting on me to help them present their wares to their best advantage.”
    “Hypocrite,” he snarled.
    “Hardly,” she returned. She plumped her skirts to settle down and touch the keys. “You are one to talk, in that case. Now, if you will allow me…”
    He would not. He was puffed up, fixing to make a scene.
    “How. Dare. You,” he roared, using the booming ducal voice that Josephine thought must be a class in itself at Eton. He slammed a twenty pound note on the piano. “That should be enough for a serious conversation, Bluestocking, no more of this idiocy. Now move over.”
    Josephine thought for a moment about kicking him in his most sensitive spot and then thought the better of it. Besides, the ever-watchful Mother Superior saw the money and the man. Josephine moved over a mere sliver so that the damned Duke of damned Lennox would be uncomfortable when he sat down.
    “Very accommodating of you, Miss Grant,” he scoffed. He played some test chords on the high keys and his face showed his extreme displeasure. “This instrument is just so appalling.”
    “You address me by my surname, and oh! Thank you, Your Grace, for your discretion! It is safe to assume that you know the book you bought was authored by me.”
    “Oh, yes,” he said, raising a sinister eyebrow. “I most undoubtedly do.”
    He kept playing, wincing at the wrongness of the sound. Even warming up, she could tell he had true talent. She had never knowna man of nobility who wished to put in the practice that playing well took, but this man was an oddity in so many ways. Every time he leaned for a farther key, he gained more ground, making sure that he had his share of the bench. Josephine moved another inch to her left so that they were not touching.
    “Then you must understand that I cannot continue hosting you in this way.” She lowered her voice. “And you may never come to my store again.”
    “They,” he glanced up, looking around the room, causing dozens of eyes to skitter away. “They think me a lovesick fool, coming over here after you cut me, in full view of a quarter of the beau monde. Grant me an explanation, Miss Grant.”
    “Explanations are too expensive, Lennox. Even for a duke.” She hoped he would take the use of his title as she intended, as a slight, hear the contempt in her voice. He did: the slender raise of his left eyebrow told her so. “Now, if you will excuse me, the show will be starting soon. I will thank you to take your seat with Lord Thackeray.”
    He crossed his arms, like a great thundercloud over her.
    “I will not have the assembled crowd think that I play your fool, Josephine, and I do not think your mother would like you pushing me off my perch.” He nodded over to Mother Superior, watching with great curiosity, but at a distance, near the bar. “For both of our sakes, do try to make this look like a lovers’ quarrel.”
    “She is not my mother. You impede my reach on the piano,” she muttered stubbornly. “Besides, I doubt you brought enough flush to pay for something like that.”
    Elias finally uncrossed his arms with a sideways tilt of his head.
    “All you think about is money.”
    Her fingers froze on the keys as she tried to contain the rage she felt at the serious expression in his