A Taste for Scandal by Erin Knightley Read Free Book Online Page B

daughter. She had worked by Father’s side for half her life in the family’s horse breeding venture, and took quite a lot of pride in her work. Truthfully, he’d always been rather grateful for her involvement; he himself was no good at all the things Evie excelled at.
    He gave her his most winning smile. She rolled her eyes and brushed passed him, stomping up the rest of the stairs. Though she wore delicate silk slippers with soft soles, she still managed to make her footsteps sound angry.
    He sighed and followed up behind her. When they reached the landing, she headed for the gold and cream drawing room to the right of the staircase, which thankfully was empty.
    “I would have never thought of you as being so high in the instep, Richard Moore,” she said, fluffing out her skirts to sit on the settee. “Lovable cad perhaps—but not one to look down his nose at others.”
    He walked over to the window and pushed aside the damask drapes to look out on the streets of St. James’s Place. Already traffic clogged the cobblestone road as the ton began another evening filled with the various entertainments the bustling Season offered. The little basket-toting baker was nowhere to be seen. Not that he would be searching for her.
    Sighing, he said, “I’m not high in the damn instep, Bit. I didn’t mean what I said. That woman just rubs me the wrong way, and I seem to have a hard time keeping a civil tongue in my head when she’s around.”
    “And why do you suppose that is?”
    Richard glanced at his sister’s face. A slight smile curved her lips. Narrowing his eyes, he said, “Because she’s a termagant.”
    Evie’s smile grew. “I think she’s nice. And quite attractive.”
    “I wouldn’t know. I was too busy dodging the fire she was breathing to notice.”
    His sister laughed, pushing off the settee and coming to her feet. She walked to where he stood and pulled back a corner of the napkin wrapped around the biscuits still cradled in his arm. He was struck anew by the sweet, delicious smell and his traitorous mouth watered as she extracted a perfect chocolate disk. Looking up to meet his eyes, she wagged the treat beneath his nose.
    “Liar,” she said, then promptly turned and walked from the room.
    All right, so she had offered better apologies in her life. Actually, all of them were better than the one Jane had given Lord Raleigh. It was so unlike her, it made her cringe just to think of the exchange. She should have waited until the next morning, when she wasn’t so exhausted and testy. Although, something about him just made her grind her teeth. She definitely should have sent Weston or Emerson instead.
    It was too late now, however. What was done was done.
    As the hack pulled up in front of her building, she wearily descended and paid the driver. God willing, she would never have to see the earl again. Their worlds could not have been farther apart—as so starkly evidenced by the palace he called home—so the chances of their encountering each other were slim to none.
    Letting herself in, Jane bypassed the shop and headed upstairs to the apartment she shared with Weston. She pushed open the door and paused at the scene that greeted her. “What is all of this?”
    Emerson and Weston both jumped at Jane’s question, apparently so immersed in their project that they didn’t even hear her come in. Weston’s sheepish expression did not bode well. Jane sighed—after the day she’d had, she didn’t need a single other thing getting between her and her bed.
    Emerson twisted in his seat and hooked an arm over the back of his chair. “I was just explaining to Weston that a good sailor wastes nothing. Debating how best to give this pile of rubble new life.”
    Setting down her basket, she went to join them at the table. The surface was littered with jagged white pieces of fine porcelain. The delicate periwinkle border added cheery color to an otherwise abysmal sight. “Mama’s china,” she breathed.