Further Than Passion by Cheryl Holt Read Free Book Online Page B

know I'm not."
    Kate's lips thinned into a tight line. Though she'd never said as much, she abhorred Regina's disparaging of her parents, so Regina did it as often as possible. Kate resembled her mother, and Regina was positive that with the smallest push, she'd act like her,
     
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    too. She had to be goaded into sticking to the straight and narrow.
    "If you continue to f launt yourself here in London, how long will it be before you're recognized? Before people realize who you are?"
    "They won't."
    "If the tiniest rumor circulates as to your ancestry, I will abandon you to your fate." It was an effective threat, and Regina had used it to pressure Kate on all manner of occasions. Her fear of being cast out of Doncaster was genuine, and a weapon Regina wielded repeatedly. "If I banish you, you have no skills, no funds, no contacts. Where will you go? How will you survive? Will you beg your bastard sister to take you in and support you?"
    "Christopher would never let you expel me," she insisted, evincing a bit of backbone.
    "How would he stop me? And if you could persuade him to countermand my edict, can you envision what your life would be like? I promise you, I would make it a living hell."
    "I'm sure you would."
    "I can't fathom why I permitted you to journey to London with us, but from this moment on, you will remain out of sight."
    "Certainly."
    "You will have no subsequent opportunity to embarrass Melanie or disgrace the family."
    "All right."
    "You will accompany Melanie on her outings, but you will not be present at any function where Lord Stamford might see you."
    "As you wish."
     
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    " If you're unclear as to which events you may attend, and which you should avoid, ask me." She waved toward the hall. "Now, be off. I'm weary of you."
    Without argument, Kate departed, and Regina went to the bellpull to muster a servant. Their discussion had left her famished. She hoped there were more petit fours in the kitchen.
    ******************
    Pamela dawdled at her dressing table and gazed in the mirror. Though she was thirty, she was still beautiful. She'd never been pregnant, so her body was curvaceous and lithe, her breasts firm and ample.
    She was sexy, gorgeous, a woman in full bloom, who knew what she wanted and how to go about getting it. She leaned forward, checking her cleavage, and determining that the negligee she'd selected was perfect. The creamy swell of her bosom was visible, the outline of her nipples distinct and conspicuous through the sheer fabric.
    Through the crack in the door, she had glimpses of Christopher Lewis lounging on the sofa in her boudoir. It had been simple to lure him to her. Though he was only eighteen, he was a man. Upon receiving her naughty invitation, he hadn't hesitated, and she was intrigued as to whether he grasped her intent.
    Was he impatient and knowledgeable? Or was he an innocent?
    Either scenario was enticing. If he'd been initiated in sexual intercourse, he would be a randy, enthusiastic love r — t he younger fellows usually wer e — b ut if he was a virgin, she would be happy to indoctrinate him.
    She paused to dab on a final whiff of perfume; then she sauntered out.
     
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    "Hello, Christopher." She sidled nearer, relishing how he admired her scanty attire. "May I call you Chris?"
    "Yes."
    "And you must call me Pamela. Lady Pamela is so dreary and formal."
    With his big blue eyes, wavy blond hair, and lanky frame, he was too adorable for words. He was rich, too, a factor she'd always found alluring, and which became ever more interesting as Marcus frittered away the last of their money.
    Christopher would eventually choose a countess, which she'd been for many years, but why should it be some simpering debutante? In light of his youth and naïveté, wouldn't he do well with an older wife? Who better than herself?
    Her pulse pounded with excitement. "Would you l ike a brandy?"
    "My mother doesn't care for me drinking. Especially not in the middle of the day."
    "Well, Regina