Sara Bennett by Lessons in Seduction Read Free Book Online

face that had laughed and lived, but it was a face that had also suffered.
    “You should not be here,” the woman said in a rich, educated voice with a light French accent.
    “So I have already been told,” Vivianna replied, ignoring Montegomery, who had also reentered the room.
    A flash of something lit the woman’s large, dark eyes—amusement, perhaps—before she became serious once more.
    “This is no place for a respectable young lady, and I can see that that is what you are, Miss…?”
    “Greentree,” Vivianna supplied, darting a fulminating look at the “gentleman.” He had moved to atable with a decanter and was pouring himself a glass of brandy.
    “Miss Greentree,” he added with emphasis, “is a founder of the Shelter for Poor Orphans.”
    Vivianna felt the woman’s stare upon her. There was something almost familiar in it, and yet she was certain she had never met her before. Then the woman gave a sophisticated, very French shrug. “I do not understand.”
    Vivianna threw off her own momentary inertia and took charge. “I do not know your name.”
    Another smile. “I am called Madame, Miss Greentree. That will do for now.”
    “Very well, ‘Madame.’ I have traveled from Yorkshire to speak with Lord Montegomery. I am, as he has said, a founder of the Shelter for Poor Orphans. The Shelter is presently housed at Candlewood, a house which belongs to Lord Montegomery and is leased to us. We were told the lease would be indefinite and the house would be available to purchase, but now it appears that Lord Montegomery wishes to demolish the house and…” She took a breath. “I wanted to ask him not to. But I fear he isn’t a man who thinks much of anything but himself.”
    Madame gave a brittle little laugh. “But all gentlemen are so, Miss Greentree. Oliver is neither better nor worse than the rest of his kind.”
    Vivianna felt her tension ease. She glanced sideways at Oliver, to see how he was reacting to his hostess’s summation of his character. He was standing against the darkness of the windows, looking elegant and yet with that air of danger and aloneness she had felt surrounded him from the first. He had narrowed his eyes at them over his brandy.
    “You think so?” he asked in deceptively soft tones.“I could have ruined her, Madame. I could have forced her, although she seemed to be enjoying herself so much I don’t think it would have been force. But I was a perfect gentleman. Don’t I deserve some credit for that?”
    Outrage had stolen Vivianna’s voice, but Madame answered for her. “Of course you do, Oliver,” she soothed him. “You are not quite as despicable as you pretend to be—I do know that, mon chéri. ”
    He returned her smile, as if he couldn’t help himself. “I am whatever you want me to be, Madame,” he replied with smooth good manners.
    Madame laughed again, and then she wrapped fingers heavy with rings about Vivianna’s arm. “Come, Miss Greentree. I will make certain you reach your cab safely. You were fortunate tonight, as Oliver has reminded us. Please, do not risk yourself again.”
    Briefly, Vivianna thought of refusing, but there was no point. Lord Montegomery had won this round. But Vivianna would never give up—the orphans were relying upon her—and once she had set her mind upon winning, she did not do it by half measures.
    “Goodbye, Miss Greentree. Do not forget your whip.” Oliver had raised his glass to her. Mocking her, daring her. Gloating. The last thing she saw as the door closed on them were his dark eyes and his victorious smile.
    “You are headstrong.” Madame’s tones were clipped, as she half led, half tugged Vivianna toward the door. The room’s inhabitants turned to stare—someone laughed. The doorman in his red coat was waiting, his battered face stern. Suddenly Vivianna was glad she still had her riding crop.
    Madame drew Vivianna’s attention back to herself. “You must learn to rein in your impetuosity, mon chou.