Submitting to His Lordship by Em Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

That a man of his station had an interest in the Herwood family was enough to make the landlord think twice about harassing the women again. Halsten was glad that Miss Herwood had had the wherewithal and the temerity to request a far greater sum to ensure the security of her family for a reasonable amount of time. Her uncertain situation concerned him.
    At dusk they came upon the Chateau Follet. Built in the early 18 th century and laced with a baroque cornice, the structure had three stories with two pointed towers serving as bookends of the perfectly symmetrical façade. The steep hip roofs of zinc contrasted with the ivory stones. One would have thought the Chateau plucked straight from the French countryside. It stood nestled among mighty oak trees and low hills verdant from the recent rains.
    He had sent his valet, Jonathan, ahead of them to ensure that all was ready when they arrived. When the carriage pulled up, they were quickly greeted by the servants. Dismounting, he went to assist Miss Herwood from the carriage. As she alighted, she gazed in awe at the chateau.
    “It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “The windows are magnificent.”
    “The bane of Monsieur Follet,” he noted wryly. “He could not curse the window tax enough till the day he died.”
    He led her up the front steps to where a young Indian abigail waited.
    “You are in good hands with Bhadra,” he said and felt Miss Herwood’s arm tense.
    “Allow me to show you to your room, m’lady,” Bhadra said warmly with only a hint of accent.
    Miss Herwood withdrew her arm from his and followed the maid inside. Halsten watched the two women until they were out of sight. Some anxiety on the part of Miss Herwood was to be expected, but she did not lose her poise. Having observed her and knowing her history, he could not help but admire her quiet dignity in the face of life’s challenges. He wondered whether he would have her forbearance if similarly situated.
    After his horse had been seen to, he went to pay his respects to the proprietress, Marguerite Follet. He was admitted into the library, where he found Madame Follet sprawled upon a settee before the fireplace, gently swaying a fan of ostrich plumes. At her feet sat a beautiful young brunette reading aloud from a book of Shakespeare sonnets. Upon seeing Halsten, Marguerite unfurled a slender arm. He crossed to her and pressed her hand to his lips.
    “Has Madame taken an interest in the Bard of Avon?” he queried, amused, for despite the vast quantity of books in the room, Marguerite had never been known to read any of them.
    She waved a dismissive hand. “Penelope here has a belle voix . She could read from anything and make it sound lovely.”
    From the gleam in her eyes, he deduced Marguerite had other interests in Penelope beyond the young woman’s exquisite voice. She smiled at Penelope, who closed her book and politely withdrew from the room.
    “She’s young,” he remarked of Penelope.
    Marguerite raised her finely shaped brows. “Do you imply I am too old for her?”
    “You, madame, could rival women half your years.”
    Appeased, she admitted, “Penelope is twenty years younger. A jeune fille douce .”
    “Have you done with men then?”
    She sighed. “Not done but a trifle bored, though less now that you have arrived. Where have you been, Halsten? Has it been years since you were here last? I thought you had married. To some Viscountess.”
    “She would have been shocked and, with her delicate constitution, taken ill if she knew my prurient interests.”
    “Then who have you here?”
    “A novice—”
    Marguerite pursed her lips. “I had the Earl of Blythe here not too long ago with a novice . Fell in love and married the chit.”
    “I assure you that is not my arrangement, nor my intention.”
    “Are you shunning marriage?”
    “Not at all, but it is incumbent that I seek a suitable match, not only for Rockwell but for Lucy. I will not diminish her prospects.”
    “But