Secrets of a Soprano by Miranda Neville Read Free Book Online

goddess of the stage. Or that his own actions had triggered the genuine attacks of panic that now beset her.
    “I’m sorry to have endangered your porcelain,” she continued. “I should have better control of myself but I really wanted to smash something on Lord Allerton’s head.”
    “And I don’t blame you a bit. I can’t imagine why he was so rude.” Jacobin’s face was avid with curiosity. “He’s not usually like that.”
    “Is he not? Our acquaintance was slight.”
    “Beneath that forbidding exterior he’s one of the kindest men in London. I always enjoy talking to him because he really listens, and appears interested. Not like many men I could mention.”
    Tessa murmured something noncommittal. She had no argument with her cousin’s assessment of the charms of Max’s companionship. All too well she recalled the joys of his conversation. In light of her experience, however, she’d have to dispute that he was “kind.”
    “And I’ve always thought him so attractive,” Jacobin continued. “Especially since he’s completely unaware of it. Those serious dark looks, like a knight of old ready to charge into battle on his lady’s behalf. Except there never has been a lady, as far as I know. There’s hardly a woman in London, married or unmarried, who wouldn’t welcome his advances—and not just because he’s so rich—but he’s oblivious to them all. He seems only to be attracted to opera singers.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh Lord! I shouldn’t have said that.”
    “It doesn’t matter. I’d say he’d made it quite clear he isn’t attracted to me.”
    Jacobin’s eyes kindled with curiosity. “I wouldn’t say that.”
    *
    The Marquess of Somerville caught Max’s arm as he strode toward the door. “Hardly the best way to woo a singer, whatever your interest.” Somerville spoke with his usual mockery but something in his face suggested that even he had been taken aback by Max’s behavior.
    “I’m no longer interested in that woman in any way. She’s all yours, Somerville, and I wish you good fortune—or rather large fortune.” He laughed harshly. “You’ll need it.”
    He stamped away and struck out blindly for the exit. He needed to get out of here at once. He knew he’d behaved badly and didn’t regret it a bit. Or rather he regretted making a public scene in Lady Storrington’s house. He wished he could have spoken privately. Sweet Tessa, he reflected bitterly, deserved everything he’d said to her and more.
    “Max!” Oh, good Lord Almighty. His mother again.
    “Yes?” he barked.
    Lady Clarissa had too much strength of mind to be deterred by her son’s obvious ill temper. “It’s her, isn’t it? The one from Portugal.”
    He didn’t deign to reply. He was as furious at her as he was at Tessa.
    “Keep away from her, Max, I warn you. Don’t forget what she is. I’ll buy her off again if I have to.”
    “I assure you, Mama,” he replied through clenched teeth, “that I’d rather be stretched on the rack than see that woman receive another farthing from either you or me.”
    “Make sure you hold to that resolution. And come and see me in the morning. I have something important to discuss with you.”
    Inwardly damning all parents, he took a last glance across the room to find Somerville bending intently over the singer’s hand, then favoring Lady Storrington with a melting smile. The man never stopped flirting with anybody in petticoats.
    Storrington had noticed too. The earl walked casually across the room to join the group, careful, Max noticed, to stand between his wife and Somerville.
    Max couldn’t resist waiting to see how the rascal would handle the confluence of a ravishing, if greedy, prima donna, a beautiful countess, and the beautiful countess’s husband. Not a whit discomfited, Somerville kissed both ladies’ hands—again—before heading in Max’s direction, a look of satisfaction glittering in his blue eyes.
    “Still here,