Rexanne Becnel by The Matchmaker-1 Read Free Book Online

better believe her a young woman of the ton than an accomplished harlot. Added to that, Cummings did not seem energetic enough to bring such a woman inside his very own home, especially while his wife was in residence.
    Then again, did anyone ever reveal who they truly were? Neville let out a cynical laugh. He certainly did not. Why should he expect Cummings to do so—or the innocent-looking Olivia B.?
    He tapped the book against his open palm. It seemed clear that this Olivia was here at the behest of Cummings or one of his other friends. Why else would she be creeping about the house at night? He looked back at the journal in his hand, seeing instead those autumn-colored eyes of hers. That she could appear so pure and lovely—and unsullied—after what must have been a long and energetic night in some lucky man’s bed was astounding.
    How he wished that bed had been his.
    He let out a muffled curse at the return of a powerful desire. Whether she was whore or innocent, it didn’t matter. He wanted her. With one thumb he ruffled the pages of her guilty little book, then grinned. He might not know precisely who she was, but he had something she would want back. He had only to wait for her to come to him.
    Meanwhile he had another hour until dawn, and what looked like very interesting reading to help him pass the time.

CHAPTER 4
    OLIVIA chewed her lip and stared out the bedroom window. Dawn had arrived at last, gray and moody. Below her Mr. Cummings and his guests ambled across the yard toward the stables. One and all they were dressed in riding gear. It appeared that despite the threatening weather, they meant to leave the carriage at home and instead take horses to Doncaster. Typical male behavior at a horse-racing weekend. Carriages that were considered a necessity in town were not manly enough here.
    She let the lace panel fall back into place. So it had not been them in the yard before dawn. Had it been the man from the library? He was not among them now, she saw. So where was he?
    Who was he?
    After her narrow escape she’d returned to her chamber and lay fully clothed upon the narrow silk-upholstered settee, fuming over his vile behavior and his mysterious identity. The only guest not yet arrived was that fellow Hawke someone had mentioned last night. But if the cad was this Lord Hawke, wouldn’t he be on his way to Doncaster with the others? Conversely, if her unsavory acquaintance was not a guest and wasn’t on his way to Doncaster, that meant he could be anywhere—including the library where she had foolishly forgotten her journal. But who could he be? A relative perhaps? He’d certainly made himself comfortable in the library.
    “Olivia?” her mother murmured from the next room. “Is that you? For heaven’s sake, child, pull the drapes to or close the door. You may be an early riser, but I am not.”

    Olivia sighed and drew the ancient velvet drapes over the lace panel, then for good measure shut the door as well. Her mother would not rise until nearly noon, and if Penny Cummings were up, she was bound to be occupied with household matters. Olivia headed for the door. That meant she was left to her own devices for the next several hours. Normally that would suit her most agreeably. But with the possibility of that awful man roaming somewhere in the house, she was not certain what she should do.
    In the hall she spied one of the upstairs maids. Though it was considered very bad form to quiz your hostess’s help, Olivia could see no alternative—not if she wished to retrieve her journal.
    “Excuse me. Could you tell me, has the Cummingses’ last guest yet arrived?”
    The mobcapped young woman bobbed a quick curtsey. “I cannot say, miss. We prepared his room yesterday but I haven’t heard whether he has arrived. Shall I check for you?” She gave Olivia a frankly curious look.
    “Oh no. That’s not necessary, But I … ah … I do have an errand you might run for me. I forgot my book in the