A Matter of Choice by Laura Landon Read Free Book Online Page B

leaning casually against the outer wall at the back of the room. Her gaze rested on him, the depth of her adoration a tribute to him. Her exposed emotions a declaration of devotion that was intended for the Marquess of Montfort.
    Allison had requested a selection from Samson and Delilah without having heard the music. She knew the opera had caused some controversy, knew the words were stirring—even provocative—but she hadn’t been prepared for the passion in the aria Mademoiselle Bochaut chose.
    Every beautiful tone hinted at something private shared by two lovers. Each word a caress, each delicate note a kiss, each breath an intimate touch. And they were meant for him alone.
    Tears flowed unabashedly down Allison’s cheeks. She told herself the reason was because she’d never heard anything so beautiful, had never been moved so by such a heaven-sent voice. But she wasn’t sure that was the reason.
    She fought the ache that pressed against her breast. She didn’t know why the look the beautiful singer shared with the Marquess of Montfort should affect her. Why their relationship with each other should bother her one way or the other. She only knew she’d never hurt like this before in her life.

Chapter 4
     
    Joshua took the stairs to his father’s townhouse two at a time and stormed through the burgundy double doors the Duke of Ashbury’s long-time butler, Higgins, held open.
    “Where is he!” Joshua marched across the marble-floored entryway with Higgins following at a pace faster than Joshua had ever seen him shuffle.
    “His Grace is in his study, my lord. But I don’t believe he wishes to be disturbed.”
    “I’ll just bet he doesn’t.” Joshua tossed Higgins his hat and cloak without breaking stride.
    The butler’s granite facial expression did not change. It was the same frozen look of regal indifference he’d worn for the twenty odd years Joshua had known him.
    Without waiting for Higgins to catch up with him, he headed toward the study.
    “Do you wish to be announced, my lord?”
    “No,” He clenched his teeth. “I believe His Grace is expecting me.”
    Each step thundered on the marble, the ominous clomping of his boot heels the only warning he intended to give his father. The old man had pushed him too far this time. The bastard would be lucky if he didn’t kill him.
    He gripped the handle of the study door and threw it open, then kicked it shut with his foot. He was alone with his father.
    The room reminded him of a tomb: dark, cold, musty-smelling.
    He focused on his father and anger surged though him. The familiar inborn fury he experienced every time the two of them were together reared its ugly head. Years of animosity created a barrier neither of them could breach.
    It was impossible to believe he’d been sired by this man. They were so different from each other, different both in looks and temperament. Or perhaps they were so alike it was like looking into a mirror and not liking the person who stared back at you. Perhaps that was why Philip had always been closer to their father. Joshua always the one kept at arm’s length.
    He stared at his father, then walked to the windows and jerked open the draperies.
    Bright, invasive sunlight flooded the room. He let the warmth wash over him while he tried to get his emotions under control. If he faced his father now, he might commit murder, he was that angry.
    His father took another swallow of his liquor without acknowledging Joshua’s presence.
    Joshua turned. “Ignoring me won’t do any good.”
    “No. It never has.”
    The duke’s words came out slow and slurred, the garbled sounds indicating a man who’d been drinking for several hours—or days.
    “No, Your Grace. It never has.”
    “I wondered how long it would take for you to discover what I’d done.”
    His father’s words were directed toward him, but he didn’t lift his head, nor did he look at him. Instead, he sat slouched in one of the two matching burgundy leather