If the Slipper Fits by Olivia Drake Read Free Book Online

innocent, at least not when it came to securing her future. They were all cunning opportunists who deceived and misled a man.
    So he had seized hold of Miss Quinn’s arm and accused her of trickery. It had not been his finest moment. His actions were especially galling now that the letter had proven the veracity of her claim. She wasn’t an idle, highborn lady with marriage on her mind; she was merely a commoner who had come here for employment.
    Simon disliked making mistakes. He preferred things to be tidy and organized, everything in its proper place. He had learned that discipline in the military. Meticulous care of one’s weaponry could mean the difference between life and death on the battlefield.
    Now, the presence of Miss Annabelle Quinn in the castle irritated him like a burr under the saddle of a cavalry horse. She was sand thrown into the well-oiled machinery of the household. He felt impatient to inform her that her services were not needed here.
    He glanced over his shoulder at the empty doorway. What was keeping the woman? He himself had changed out of his wet clothes in a matter of minutes. She shouldn’t be lost since he’d instructed one of the maids to escort her here. Maybe like all females, Miss Quinn liked to dally at her toilette.
    His mind produced a vivid image of her standing naked in the firelight while leisurely toweling herself dry. He knew she had fine breasts; they had been pressed against him when he’d carried her through the deluge. Memory added the womanly shape of her hips and waist, all arranged in a temptingly perfect hourglass figure.
    He pressed his overheated forehead to the coolness of the glass pane. Devil take it, he would not be acting upon his base instincts. His behavior toward her had been reprehensible enough already.
    A tapping sounded on the open door to his study. He pivoted as swiftly as a boy caught with his hand in the sweets dish. On the threshold stood the object of his erotic fantasies.
    Drab was his first thought. Thank God was his second.
    The wet nymph was gone. Miss Annabelle Quinn now wore a baggy gray gown that was buttoned to her throat. An old-maid’s white cap hid most of her rich brown hair. The transformation added at least a decade onto her age. She now looked every inch the dowdy, no-nonsense governess.
    She cast a surreptitious glance around the study, her gaze taking in the walls of books, the elephant’s foot stool, the small statues and trinkets he’d collected on his travels. Then she waited patiently, her chin lowered slightly, the picture of modesty.
    Simon found satisfaction in her docility. A humble servant would be easier to handle then a headstrong termagant. “Come in,” he said, seating himself on the edge of the desk.
    Miss Quinn walked toward him. The borrowed gown had been made for a shorter woman, and the high hem revealed a pair of sturdy shoes and a glimpse of trim ankle. Stopping in the middle of the rug, she dipped a graceful curtsy.
    “Good evening, my lord.” Her voice was soft and modulated, utterly unlike that of the indignant maiden of the forest. “I do hope I haven’t inconvenienced you. The housekeeper had some trouble in finding the proper attire for me.”
    “Never mind.” Simon picked up the letter from the desk and tapped it against his palm. “It gave me the opportunity to locate Lady Milford’s note.”
    Miss Quinn’s eyes glowed like stars, lending an unwelcome beauty to her face. “Oh, thank heavens! Where was it?”
    “I’d mistaken it for a social invitation and tossed it into a drawer.”
    “Then you’ll know that what I told you is true. Her ladyship engaged my services as governess to His Grace.”
    Simon gave a cool nod. “Indeed. Which means I owe you an apology. I should not have mistreated you.”
    “You believed me to be a trespasser.”
    “Be that as it may, it’s no excuse for my ungentlemanly behavior. I trust you will accept my expression of remorse.”
    “Certainly, my lord. I