Lessons from a Scandalous Bride by Sophie Jordan Read Free Book Online

me, Libba. I’m in need of some air.” She rose to her feet and slipped out the drawing room’s balcony doors.
    She shivered at the sudden plunge into chilled air. She wished she’d brought her shawl but wasn’t about to go back into the house to fetch it. She moved away from the door. The feminine chatter from within faded as she strolled along the verandah that wrapped around the side of the house.
    Chafing her arms, she stared up at the night and squinted, wondering where the stars had vanished. She’d always been able to see them at home. She and her mother were fond of picking out the constellations.
    “Can’t see a thing through all the smog.”
    Cleo gasped and spun around.
    Standing several feet away, the Scot propped a lean hip against the stone railing, his booted feet crossed at the ankles.
    “What are you doing out here?” she demanded.
    “Could ask you the same.”
    She crossed her arms, suddenly unsure what to do with them.
    It dawned on her that they’d never even spoken at any length. Just a brief two- or three-worded greeting. For as much as he’d filled her awareness . . . occupied her thoughts, this struck her as strange.
    She shivered anew. It was too dark to see his eyes but she imagined they still looked at her with that cold disapproval.
    “Tired of the chatter?” he asked, his dark head nodding toward the drawing room.
    She soaked up the sound of his voice. The faint brogue rolled through her like warm honey. She shook her head for thinking such a way, angry at herself for letting his voice affect her.
    “I needed some fresh air,” she murmured, her voice a tight squeak.
    “Bracing yourself for the earl’s cold touch?”
    She sucked in a sharp breath, his words as shocking as a dousing of water. “Pardon me?”
    “You heard me well enough.”
    “Surely not. My ears must be mistaken to have heard you say something so unconscionably rude.”
    He chuckled and the sound grated. Suddenly, his laughter stopped and silence stretched between them until he asked, “How old are you?”
    She hesitated, but ultimately answered him. “Three and twenty.”
    “That young?”
    “You thought me older?”
    “You must confess there aren’t many girls of your tender years who would consider a man in his eightieth year a prime candidate for a husband.”
    She pulled back her shoulders. “You know no bounds, my lord. I’m not sure why anything about me should interest you.”
    He shrugged. “You’re a curiosity, I confess.”
    “Perhaps I look beyond the superficial shell of a person.”
    He chuckled and the sound rippled though her like dribbling honey. “Oh, indeed? Then do tell. Share with me what it is about the old earl that you find so endearing?”
    She stared at him in mutinous silence and she was quite certain that he was enjoying himself. At her expense. His eyes gleamed in the gloom and she felt the overwhelming urge to strike him.
    He continued in that rolling burr of his, mocking, “Is it his scintillating conversation?”
    “Go to hell.” The words exploded from her lips before she could stop herself. Immediately, she regretted them. She regretted the hot emotion he’d roused within her . . . the unreasonable urge to lash out. She’d never been like this before . . . so defensive, so hostile. Not even with Roger, and he’d justifiably earned her ire on countless occasions. Daily.
    He chuckled, seemingly delighted with her outburst. “You’re the first woman I’ve met in this godforsaken city to utter anything quite so . . . honest. It’s a welcome bit of fresh air.”
    This declaration bordered on a compliment. Decidedly uncomfortable that he might actually admire her in some fashion, she turned to go. “We shouldn’t be out here . . . alone together.”
    He chuckled anew, this sound lower, deeper. It slid seductively along her spine. She stopped, shooting a glance over her shoulder at the dim shape of him. “What’s so amusing?” she queried, the