A Notorious Love by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online

work of a clerk will best make me look like one. But I expect he’s only wanting to save me the trouble.”
    “I’m sure you’re right,” she said politely, then glanced around. “Is he here?”
    “Oh! Yes, of course, I forgot to say, didn’t I?” He jerked erect and spoke as if reciting a set speech. “At present Mr. Brennan is occupied with a client. If you would be so good as to take a seat, I assure you he will be with you shortly.” Relaxing his stance, he added, “I expect he won’t be long, milady.”
    “Thank you.”
    Occupied with a client. Obviously, Mr. Brennan did not share her sense of urgency. No doubt he kept her waiting on purpose after her prickly behavior yesterday. She couldn’t blame him. Although she hadn’t expected to interrupt an orgy when she knocked on his door, she should have been more “well-bred” about it.
    Today she would do better. She would not criticize his habits or raise her voice. She would be the perfect lady. She would show him she appreciated his help, even if it meant sifting her remarks through gritted teeth.
    The Well-bred Young Lady scents her breath with cloves and her words with honey, Helena reminded herself. A pity she’d grown a trifle unfamiliar of late with the language of honey.
    Ignoring young Mr. Clancy’s curious gaze on her, shewalked haltingly to the nearest chair. There was a certain advantage to spending all her time in Warwickshire. At home everyone knew of her bad leg; they’d had eight years to get used to it. So she was spared the pointed glances of others.
    She sat down, and only then did Mr. Clancy take his seat. Opening her reticule, she took out a packet of cloves, removed one, then put it in her mouth to chew. The spice exploded in her mouth, as bitter as the knowledge that time was flying by, sending her sister and that wretched Mr. Morgan farther away with each fleeting second.
    What if Mr. Brennan had found nothing and was abandoning the search? What would she do? Hire one of those Bow Street fellows? The very thought of hobbling into a succession of strangers’ offices chilled her blood. But more chilling was the thought of what Mr. Morgan must be doing to sweet little Juliet…
    She stiffened. It did no good to imagine the worst.
    Yet that’s all she’d done since yesterday. What a night she’d had—fraught with vague worries and portents of disaster. And dreams…Merciful heavens, the dreams that had plagued her! She still remembered the one where she stood fully clothed in a brothel of naked fancy women who were pulling on her, urging her to join them. She’d resisted until Mr. Brennan had appeared in his drawers and begun removing her clothes until all she wore was her blue scarf. And just as he’d leaned closer to untie it, she’d awakened, hot and restless, her hands touching—
    Face flaming, she groaned. No, she wouldn’t even think of that.
    As if prompted by her groan, Mr. Clancy said, “Are you comfortable, milady? Is there anything I can get you? A cushion perhaps? We don’t have any here, but I imagine I could pop round to a shop and—”

    “I am perfectly comfortable, thank you,” she put in, praying that her blush did not betray her indecent thoughts.
    One thing she could say for Mr. Brennan’s clerk—he was certainly friendly. He quickly launched into another subject. “We were all very happy when Mr. Knighton married your sister, y’know. She’s a fine woman, a fine woman indeed.”
    She swallowed her shredded clove. “Thank you. I’m sure she’s flattered by your regard.” If Rosalind even noticed it, with Griff around. The stars in her eyes undoubtedly blinded her to anybody but him.
    “It did seem like a good match. She and Mr. Knighton looked happy as larks.”
    “They are.” What else did one say to that? They’re blissfully, annoyingly, maddeningly happy?
    She knew it was peevish, but Rosalind’s connubial bliss made her ache with envy. And a bone-deep loneliness. Until this summer,