Notorious Pleasures by Elizabeth Hoyt Read Free Book Online

bachelor’s mansion. Hero suspected that this was Maximus’s way of ensuring his own privacy, but she didn’t object. While their town house wasn’t as palatial as Wakefield House, it was quite elegant and comfortable.
    Panders, the butler, opened the front door, bowing over a round little belly. “Good evening, my lady, ma’am.”
    “More like good morning, Panders,” Cousin Bathilda said as she handed him her wrap and gloves. “Have one of the footmen take Mignon for her before-bed constitutional and then bring her to my rooms.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Panders took the little spaniel in his arms, succeeding in remaining grave even as Mignon bathed his chin with her tongue.
    “Thank you, Panders.” Hero smiled at the butler and relinquished her wrap before following the older lady to the upper floor.
    “I am so very proud of you for making this match,” Cousin Bathilda said outside her room. She yawned again, delicately patting her mouth with one hand. “Oh, dear, I’m quite done in. Good night.”
    “Good night,” Hero whispered, and turned down the hall to her own room. It was well past midnight, but oddly she didn’t feel at all sleepy.
    She opened her door and wasn’t too surprised when Phoebe’s mobcapped head popped up from the covers of her bed. “Hist! Hero!”
    Phoebe was the youngest of the Batten children and looked nothing like either Hero or Maximus. Where both Hero and Maximus were tall, Phoebe was short—barely an inch over five feet—and rather on the plump side, much to Cousin Bathilda’s consternation. A fine cloud of curly light brown hair, already falling from her night braid, framed her face, and her eyes were hazel behind small, round spectacles. In her white lawn night rail, she looked all of twelve, though she’d been seventeen for half a year now.
    “What are you doing still up?” Hero closed the door behind her, then kicked off her slippers. Four candelabras lit the room, making it bright and warm. “And what have you done with Wesley?”
    Phoebe hopped from the bed. “I sent her away. I’ll play maid and you can tell me all about the ball.” Phoebe wasn’t yet out and hadn’t been allowed to attend the engagement ball—much to her vocal disgust.
    “Hmm. Well, I don’t know that there’s much to tell,” Hero began.
    “Oh, don’t tease!” Phoebe was already working at the hooks to Hero’s bodice. “Was Mrs. Tate there?”
    “Yes, and you wouldn’t believe her gown,” Hero said, relenting.
    “What? What?”
    “Scarlet. Almost the same shade as her hair. And her bodice was so low it was nearly indecent. I swear I saw Mr. Grimshaw stumble over thin air he was so busy craning his neck around to ogle her bosom.”
    Phoebe giggled. “Who else was there?”
    “Oh, everyone.” Hero helped take off her bodice, and then they both began on the tapes fastening her skirts. She kept her eyes on her fingers and made her voice casual. “I met Mandeville’s brother.”
    “I thought he lived in the north of England?”
    “He came down for the ball.”
    “Is he like the marquess?”
    “Only a little. They’re both tall and dark, but other than that, they’re completely different. Lord Griffin Reading has such pale green eyes, startling really. His face is more lined than Mandeville’s and thinner. He seems merrier, laughing and joking, but I think he’s less happy than Mandeville. And the way he moves…”
    Hero looked up and realized that despite her carefully neutral tone, she must’ve given something away. Phoebe was watching her quizzically. “Yes? How does he move?”
    Hero could feel heat stealing into her cheeks. She made a production of stepping from her skirts and shaking them out before draping them over a chair for Wesley to clean and put away tomorrow. “It’s rather odd. He seems to be doing everything slowly, and yet when he wants, he’s faster than other men.”
    “Like a cat,” Phoebe said.
    Hero straightened and looked at her, eyebrows