Claiming the Chaperon's Heart by Anne Herries Read Free Book Online

Adam had been invited to dine at a gentleman’s house and to play cards in the evening. Since the gentleman was an officer they’d known when serving with Wellington, both were delighted to accept.
    Paul was not sure what to make of the letter. The paper smelled delightfully of a perfume that pleased the senses, but which he could not have named for it was subtler than the heavy perfumes he’d been used to in India. The writing was beautifully formed, but the message seemed glacial to him. What could he have done to deserve such excessive politeness? He’d seen middle-aged ladies giving the cold shoulder to some junior officers before this, but he himself had never been on the receiving end.
    Lady March was probably some old trout with an acid tongue, he thought and grimaced. It was regrettable that he must call on her during the hours she’d set, for he normally steered well clear of those very haughty dames. However, since his ward had chosen to ignore his invitation to take up residence in her own home and await her chaperon and his ideas for her future, he had no choice. Had he been married, he would have had no hesitation in commanding Miss Bellingham to do as he bid her, but, as a single man of no more than one and thirty, he must be circumspect in his dealings with the young lady—and therefore he must try to get on to terms with the old biddy who had brought her to London. He had never met the Viscount Salisbury or any member of his family, but he’d been told by Mrs Bellingham that they were respectable people and rich. He’d thought Lady March a younger woman, but the tone of this letter made him think he’d been mistaken.
    Well, he would forget it for this evening. Paul had already set things in motion regarding the furnishing of his house. Lady Moira had returned to town after discovering that her charge was not in residence at Paul’s country house and, discovering that he was camping out in two rooms, promised to arrange for him to meet a very good man who would furnish his house in the latest style.
    He’d thanked her, for although he had his own ideas on what he wanted, he really had no idea where to start. Lady Moira knew all the best shops and the silk merchants—because, she said, when she called, all the drapes in the house needed refurbishment too.
    Adam had told him he needed a wife, and a certain unease at the back of Paul’s mind warned him that Lady Moira was thinking of herself as filling the position, which meant he would be reluctant to ask for her help furnishing his house. She was actually five years older, but because she dressed in the first style, was intelligent and up to date in her thinking, she seemed younger. Many men seemed to prefer a slightly older woman, and there was something very sensual about Lady Moira. Although Paul did not care for the perfume she wore; it was too heavy and reminded him of some that the ladies of easy virtue who pleasured the Army officers had a habit of wearing. Indeed, Lady Moira reminded him of a beautiful courtesan he’d been offered by the Indian Prince he’d saved from death.
    ‘I owe you my life, sahib ,’ the young Prince told him. ‘Selima is of royal blood and she is yours for the taking. She is trained to please men and she will show you tricks you never dreamed of, my dear lord and saviour.’
    Paul had held his laughter inside for he knew the young man believed he was bestowing a great honour by giving him the services of the beautiful concubine, but he’d refused as politely as he could. A certain gleam in the woman’s eyes had spoken of a sly nature and she’d held no appeal for him. However, to refuse point-blank would have been considered an insult, so Paul was forced to fabricate an excuse. He’d been preparing himself for marriage with his English bride, he’d said, and must forswear the pleasures of the flesh until his wedding so that he could do his bride justice.
    This had found favour with the young Prince, who