Bella and the Beast by Olivia Drake Read Free Book Online

daughter …
    Then Miles had to find out what she knew.

 
    Chapter 5
    â€œFollow me,” the duke snapped.
    Bella hastened to comply with the terse command. After being caught in a barefaced lie, she didn’t dare risk incurring his wrath again. She half ran to keep pace with his long strides down the corridor. Her fingers clutched at her skirt to avoid tripping on the gown with its myriad stiff petticoats.
    With the funds from Lady Milford, she had sent Lila to buy the bronze silk from Fothergill’s shop. It had given Bella great pleasure to wear the very fabric that he had deemed too fine for her.
    But now she longed for the comfort of her Persian robes. The whalebone corset pinched her ribs and the wide brim of the bonnet acted like blinders on a horse, restricting her vision so that she could only gaze straight ahead at the duke.
    Where was he taking her?
    She didn’t know, but at least he hadn’t ejected her from his house. A cautious elation lifted her spirits. She had crossed the first obstacle. She had convinced him to listen to her.
    But oh, Lady Milford had not exaggerated. The Duke of Aylwin really was a beast. He was an imperious, high-handed autocrat who rejected even the veneer of hospitality. His rude manner only solidified Bella’s distrust of the English aristocracy.
    She glowered at his broad back. Never once did Aylwin turn around to make certain she was still behind him. He seemed indifferent to her presence as if he were accustomed to having underlings obey his orders at the snap of a finger.
    Yet he wasn’t quite what she’d expected, either.
    On the coach ride to London, she had pictured in her mind an aging dignitary in rich, elaborate garb with a purple robe around his shoulders and a gold scepter in his hand. But Aylwin was no old codger; he was a man in his prime. He resembled a common laborer, all brawny muscles and rumpled dark brown hair. His linen shirt was open at the throat, and the sleeves were rolled up to expose his bare forearms. There was even a smudge of gray dust on his black trousers.
    How could she have guessed that he was the duke?
    The memory of his brown eyes boring into her caused a disturbing quiver inside Bella. The feeling resonated in her depths like an instinctive warning. Aylwin didn’t appear to be the sort who could be easily deceived. He looked hard and tough, no one’s fool. Yet somehow she had to convince the tyrant to hire her.
    Bella followed him through an arched doorway and into an enormous oblong chamber. There, she stopped in amazement. Afternoon sunlight poured through the wall of windows at one end of the room. The formal style included cut-glass chandeliers, gilded wall panels, and an arched ceiling painted with cherubs and nymphs.
    But that wasn’t what held her attention. It was the contents of the room. Spread out before her lay a vast sea of Egyptian artifacts.
    She advanced slowly, turning her head in the restrictive bonnet in order to view every piece. There were many strange figures carved in stone, some of them part human, part animal. Gods with jackal or ram heads. Women with kohl-rimmed eyes and snake crowns. Polished stone boxes that looked like coffins.
    Bella reached out to trace the granite hand of a robed man with a curiously long goatee and a tall crown. A sense of wonderment filled her, the same excitement and interest she’d always felt when helping her father explore an old shrine in a jungle or excavate a crumbling monument in the desert. It was as if she stood inside an ancient tomb instead of a grand house in the middle of London.
    â€œDon’t touch.”
    Bella jumped at the gravelly sound of Aylwin’s voice in her ear. Her hand flew to her bosom and she whirled around to find the duke standing directly behind her. “You startled me,” she chided.
    His lips thinned, he regarded her with distaste. “It’s that wretched hat. It impedes your vision. I