Scandal of the Year by Laura Lee Guhrke Read Free Book Online

drove it, with the wind in her hair and the sound of the engine in her ears, she felt free. No, she decided, not the Mercedes.
    She supposed she could take up a profession. Julia considered the women she knew who had at some point earned their living. Lady Marlowe and Lady Avermore, longtime friends of their family, were both writers, and writing was certainly a respectable occupation, one many in the aristocracy embarked upon. Still, Julia knew she couldn’t write to save herself. Amusing, rambling, grammatically hopeless letters to friends, she could manage, but stories or poetry? Mess about with plots and themes and rhyme and meter? No. She hadn’t the talent or discipline for such an occupation.
    Art? Her cousin Beatrix had explored that possibility shortly after breaking her engagement to Aidan, and oh, the to-do that had ensued from the family! Julia would prefer not to cause her relations any further anxiety, but it hardly mattered anyway, for unlike her cousin, Julia had no artistic talent. She was accomplished at the piano, but taking up a post as the piano player in a music hall would hardly be the sort of respectable occupation she was looking for.
    She tapped her quill thoughtfully against her desk. Lucy, she supposed, might have some ideas. Her friend Lucy, now Lady Weston, owned an employment agency. But, even so, what sort of position could Lucy obtain for her? She couldn’t operate a typewriting machine. She was too chatty to be a telephone operator. She could see herself intervening in the conversations she heard, offering opinions and advice and being sacked for her trouble. Governess? God, no. Who’d hire a notorious divorcee for that?
    Trade? She paused, considering. Maria, before becoming the Marchioness of Kayne, had owned a bakery. Vivian Marlowe was the famous dressmaker Vivienne, with a very posh shop in New Bond Street. But opening a shop required money, the lack of which was Julia’s exact problem. And truthfully, would she be able to go to a shop and open for business every day? Mess about with tradesmen’s books and hire shopgirls and make them work and sack them if they didn’t? It sounded terribly tedious. Julia knew her own character well, and she feared she had far too frivolous a nature to be an accomplished woman of business.
    She sighed, tossing down her quill, feeling hopelessly inadequate. She longed for a cigarette, but she hadn’t smoked since the May Day Ball, and giving in to that temptation after only a week of abstinence would not help either her self-esteem or her pocketbook. Instead, she plunked her elbows on the desk, cupped her chin in her hands, and stared at the mountain of bills before her, trying to think of a solution. Just what was a gregarious social butterfly with a ruined reputation qualified to do?
    Only one thing, really. Julia found that realization terribly depressing. The last thing she wanted was to become some man’s mistress, which to her way of thinking wasn’t much different from being married. Though not as absolute as marriage, it was still a form of enslavement. Even more important, she didn’t have the stomach for it. She’d deliberately cultivated a scandalous reputation, but it was a sham. Since marrying Yardley, there had been only one man she’d ever considered as a lover. Only one.
    Whenever she thought of how she’d been that day with Aidan, when she thought of the wanton things she’d done, she was still rather shocked by how she’d managed to be so seductive on the surface, so bold and so sensual, when underneath, she’d felt such desperation and panic.
    The door opened, and Julia came out of her reverie with a start. She looked up as her maid, Giselle, entered the room, bringing Spike, Julia’s beloved pet bulldog, with her on a leather leash. The moment the animal caught sight of his mistress, he bounded across the room, pulling the leash out of Giselle’s hand in his enthusiastic efforts. Too fat now to jump all the way into