A Woman Scorned by Liz Carlyle Read Free Book Online Page A

references to his uncle.
    Deftly, Amherst flicked through the pages, cleared his throat, and began to read. “I was schooled at Eton for five years, ma’am, as a King’s scholar. Thereafter, I matriculated to King’s College, Cambridge, and began my divinity studies. Upon completion with honors, I became a fellow of the university, with the emphasis of my research centered upon a studied comparison of the
a priori
versus the empirical methods of philosophical theology.”
    He paused to pull out a single sheaf of paper, passing it to her with long, elegant fingers. “Here, my lady, are my references and the dates of my various degrees and positions. Moreover, prior to joining the university, I tutored extensively in the subjects of philosophy, mathematics, classical literature, as well as Latin and Greek. I also served for a time at Saint Ann’s in Cambridgeshire as their cur—”
    “Captain Amherst!” Jonet held up a staying hand and paused to collect her wits.
Good heavens, the man really was the scholar he had once appeared to be
.
She was truly doomed
. “It would appear that you are somewhat . . . overqualified for this position.”
    “Quite so,” he answered simply.
    Feeling woefully ignorant, Jonet rearranged her skirts once more, choosing her words with utmost care. “Though you are obviously very learned, sir, my sons are young, and require training in mathematics and literature and perhaps rudimentary Greek—all very basic things. And of course, they must learn to ride well. To dance a bit, and to—to, well, to play
cricket
, for heaven’s sake! Have you any such
ordinary
experience?”
    Something which might have been sarcasm tugged at his handsome mouth. “Forgive my impertinence, ma’am, but the British Army has managed to make a fair cavalry officer out of me, and so I can sit a horse with some skill. And hefting all those weighty tomes in the library has not completely impaired my ability as a batsman.”
    “Oh!” said Jonet lightly, realizing too late that she had insulted his masculinity. What a joke that was. Delicately, she touched the tip of her index finger to her bottom lip. “And what of those dancing skills, Captain Amherst? Are you as physically talented in everything you undertake to perform?”
    She wanted to bite back the words as soon as they left her mouth. Amherst’s eyes narrowed perceptively.
Good God, what was wrong with her?
First she was an ill-mannered shrew, now she was acting like a vulgar flirt. The captain’s poor opinion of her could not but be furthered by such contemptible behavior.
    “Why, I must confess you have caught me out there, madam,” Amherst said coldly. “With regard to indoor athletics, you’d be better
served
by hiring yourself a dancing master.”
    Jonet wanted to sink through the floor in mortification. Unfortunately, that was not an option available to her. There was nothing else for it but to brazen it through. She reminded herself yet again that there was too much at stake; that her first instinct—abject panic—was a luxury she could ill afford. Intimidation it would have to be.
    Restlessly, she tapped her fingernail against the arm of her mahogany chair. She did not like the look of Captain Cole Amherst, her long-lost and should-have-stayed-lost cousin. Or rather, the problem was she liked the look of him all too well. He was something of a challenge, and Jonet had not felt challenged by anything in a very long time. Tormented, yes. Tortured, often. But that was hardly the same thing as an invigorating contest of wills or wits.
    Moreover, it would be hard to justify throwing a man with his credentials—not to mention his obstinacy—into the street. Not unless he wanted to go.
Did
he want to go? She rather thought he did. So why the devil was he here?
    Jonet still felt the danger thrumming all about her, as she had now for months on end, but her almost unfailing instincts could not fix Amherst as the cause. Nonetheless, he had been