Quick, Amanda by Affair Read Free Book Online

qualities
    that made him intriguing could also make a man dangerous. At the
    very least) they made him less than pliable. nstructions with She required a man-of-affairs. who would take i
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    out argument, not one who would demand constant explanations and Justifications. She did not think that
    Baxter would be easily ordered about. At best, he was likely to prove difficult. "Perhaps now that Mr.
    St. Ives has a new post, he will be able to afford a new tailor." Ariel chuckled as she carried her plate
    back to
    the table. "His coat certainly did not fit him very well and his waistcoat was quite plain. Did you notice
    that he was wearing breeches instead of trousers?" "I noticed."
    She would have been blind had she failed to observe the manner
    in which the snug breeches had revealed the sleekly muscled outline of his thighs, she thought. She
    summoned up the memory of Baxter as he sat across from her attired in a rumpled blue coat, unpleated
    linen shirt, and the conservative breeches and unpolished boots. She frowned slightly. "His clothes were
    of excellent quality." "Yes, but sadly unfashionable, even for a gentleman in his position." Ariel took a bite
    of sausage. "And his neckcloth was tied in a very mundane manner. I fear our Mr. St. Ives has no sense
    of style at all. "
    "One does not look for style in a man-of-affairs." "Precisely." Ariel winked. "Which only goes to prove
    that he is just what he appears to be, a gentleman badly in need of a position. Probably a second son
    from the country. You know how that is."
    Charlottefiddled with her coffee cup. "I suppose so." It was common knowledge that many second and
    third sons of the country gentry who were not in line for the family farm were obliged to make their livings
    as men-of-affairs. "Cheer up," Ariel said. "I'm quite sure stodgy old Marcle would not have sent St. Ives
    to you unless he was suitably qualified."
    Charlottewatched as her sister attacked the eggs and sausages on her plate. Her own appetite was
    normally quite sharp in the mornings but today she was barely able to contemplate the cup of Coffee in
    front of her.
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    Amanda Quick
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    Charlottesighed. It was now quite clear that she was the only one in the household who sensed that there
    was a great deal more to
    Baxter St. Ives than met the eye. Yesterday Ariel and Mrs. Witty, the housekeeper, had both
    pronounced themselves well satisfied with Marcie's replacement. The two were so convinced of their im pressions thatCharlotte had almost begun to doubt her own instinc tive wariness.
    Almost, but not quite. She had had a great deal of experience assessing gentlemen, after all, and her
    intuition in such matters
    rarely failed her. She could not dismiss it out of hand.
    But she was baffled by the fact that the others could not see past the lenses of Baxter's spectacles to the
    truth that blazed there.
    He claimed to have an interest in chemistry but in her opinion, he was no modern man of science. The
    man had the eyes of an alchemist, one of those legendary seekers obsessed with the search for the
    mystical secrets of the Philosopher's Stone. She could easily envision him hunched over a fiery crucible,
    concocting experiments that would enable him to transmute lead into gold.
    Intense intelligence, unrelenting determination, and a will of
    iron burned in the amber depths of his eyes. The same qualities were etched into his blunt, strong face.
    She had sensed something else in him, too, something that she could not quite define. A hint of
    melancholia perhaps. Which, now that she considered it, was not unexpected.
    There was a long artistic tradition of depicting that dark, wistful emotion with the emblems of alchemy.
    Those who engaged in an
    endless quest for nature's arcane secrets were no doubt doomed to
    experience episodes of despair and disappointment.
    Baxter St. Ives was far and away the most