Cheryl Holt by Too Tempting to Touch Read Free Book Online Page A

it all, how he wouldn’t be around to stop her, and she liked to think that her malevolent words had pushed him over the edge and into the great beyond.
    The maid arrived with her tea, and after she set it down, Lydia gripped the girl’s wrist and pinched the skin hard enough to leave a mark.
    “If you ignore me in the future,” Lydia warned, “I’ll have you whipped, then thrown into the streets and hauled off as a common vagrant. No one will ever hear from you again.”
    The maid’s eyes widened with dismay, and she dared to sass, “The earl would never let you.”
    “Well, the earl would never know, would he?” She flashed such a dangerous, feral sneer that the girl ran, giving Lydia the distinct impression that she’d have no further trouble in that quarter. She smiled, relishing the discreet exhibition of power.
    It was so rewarding to lord herself over others, to wreak her petty retributions, and she sighed with pleasure.
    Noise erupted in the hall, and she smoothed her features as Rebecca strolled into the room. Rebecca was aggravatingly elegant—she seemed to glide rather than walk—and Lydia’s elevated mood vanished in an instant.
    She couldn’t bear to be reminded of Rebecca’s perfections! Her flawlessness, next to Lydia’s dour ordinariness, was like a seething, livid monster that was eating Lydia alive.
    Rebecca was everything that Lydia was not. She was pretty, with rosy cheeks, shiny brunette hair, and expressive green eyes. Her looks, coupled with her petite size, curvaceous anatomy, and kindly manner, never ceased to annoy Lydia.
    Why did Rebecca have to be so sweet? So wonderful? Why did she possess so many positive female traits, while Lydia possessed none?
    “Hello, Lydia,” Rebecca chirped as she waltzed in, grabbed a plate, and filled it with food. She never waited for the servants to assist her, claiming she didn’t care to disturb them. “Isn’t it a fine morning?”
    “It’s supposed to rain,” Lydia countered. She loathed Rebecca’s chirpy attitude and constantly strove to quash it.
    “Is it? That’s too bad.” She peeked out the window, checking the street, which was dry. “We could stay at home and invite guests over to play charades. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
    “I abhor charades.”
    “You do not,” Rebecca scolded, though merrily, as she sat down. “You’re just being contrary.”
    “The clothes you ordered are ready. If you want to wear the emerald ball gown Friday night, you have to have a final fitting. You can’t be dawdling in the house.”
    “Duty calls then,” Rebecca said, chuckling. “I shall force myself to the seamstress. Will you join me? When I was there the other day, she had several dresses that would be flattering on you. Why not treat yourself?”
    “Why not indeed?” Lydia’s fury sparked, but she tamped it down. “I’ve employed a companion for you so I needn’t be bothered.”
    She tried never to be seen in public with Rebecca. Rebecca was so stunning, and Lydia was so plain, that therewas always nattering about what an odd pair they were, and Lydia wouldn’t provide fodder for the gossip mill.
    Rebecca would be the belle of every soiree she attended. People would wax on about how dazzling she’d been, and the notion of all those compliments being spewed was like a wad of bread wedged in Lydia’s throat.
    When Rebecca was a baby, Lydia had frequently contemplated sneaking into the nursery and smothering her in her sleep. She never could figure out why she hadn’t.
    “What are your plans with Cousin Alex?” She’d had loads of practice at hiding her emotions, so no one would ever guess how much she detested him, too. “Are you going riding?”
    “Not if it rains!” Rebecca teasingly responded.
    “Don’t be smart.” Lydia spoke as if they were mother and daughter rather than siblings. With Lydia being thirteen years older and having raised Rebecca, she behaved like a stem parent.
    “Oh, Lydia,” Rebecca retorted,