Bella and the Beast by Olivia Drake Read Free Book Online Page B

Seymour’s daughter when your hair color is different?”
    â€œIt isn’t uncommon for blond hair to darken with age. Surely you know that.” But he still looked skeptical, and Bella felt mired in frustration. The duke would never employ her if he believed her to be a liar. It didn’t help matters, either, that he had already caught her in one fib. “Your Grace, I fail to see why you’d think I’m pretending to be someone else. What would be the purpose of such a deception?”
    He stood before the backdrop of a lofty stone stela. His austerely handsome face appeared chiseled from granite, like one of the fearsome gods on display. “Ladies have a habit of trying to ingratiate themselves with me,” he said. “They use trickery in the hopes of deceiving me into marriage. I’ll admit your ploy is cleverer than most. It required some research into my family’s past.”
    He believed her to be a husband hunter?
    The notion was so absurd that Bella felt a trill of mirth bubble up into her throat. As a little choke of hilarity escaped, his face tightened and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just that … at my advanced age, I’m too set in my ways to think of taking a husband, let alone trapping one. Rather, I came here because … because of the connection between our families.”
    She paused, hesitant to make her application for curator while he looked so ill-humored. Better to flatter him first by asking questions about his Egyptian artifacts. Men always liked to talk about their particular interests. “You see,” she went on, “my father died last year and I’d hoped to find out more about his work in Egypt. When I heard that you had inherited many of the artifacts that Papa helped discover, I thought perhaps that you might show me some of them—”
    â€œBy damn,” Aylwin broke in with a snap of his fingers. “There is a way to confirm your identity. Something I’d nearly forgotten.”
    â€œOh?” A little bemused, Bella took a step toward him. “Do tell. I’m happy to lay your doubts to rest.”
    His shrewd gaze fixed on her, the duke prowled back and forth. “Sir Seymour’s wife fell very ill while in Egypt. Her daughter’s nursemaid was a Berber woman who held many superstitious beliefs. She had Isabella’s legs inked with symbols designed to ward off the jnoun, the evil spirits that bring disease. The markings are indelible. If you are indeed who you claim to be, you should still have those tattoos.”
    A tremor quaked through Bella. He knew about the strange patterns on her ankles? When she had been old enough to ask, Papa had explained that the tribal woman had only meant to protect Bella from illness. He had led her to believe that the incident had occurred during a journey through Morocco …
    But apparently it had happened in Egypt. Why hadn’t Papa told her the truth?
    Aylwin stood waiting, his arms folded across his broad chest. The directness of his stare increased her disquiet. Did he expect her to show him the markings?
    He must.
    The very idea of letting this man look beneath her skirts revolted Bella. Not just for the assault on her modesty, but also because she had never revealed the tattoos to anyone outside her family. At one time, she had considered them a disfigurement. In her youth, she’d attempted to scrub them off until her flesh had turned raw. But the ink went too deeply into her skin.
    Now, she seldom spared a thought for the markings. They were simply a part of herself that could not be changed. A hidden secret that no man—not even a duke—had any right to see.
    â€œYes, the designs are still there,” she admitted stiffly. “But you will have to take my word on the matter.”
    He made a sound halfway between a snarl and a laugh. “Your word? I think not.