The Book Of Scandal by Julia London Read Free Book Online

afternoon while Evelyn waited for Mary to speak to the king. Harriet was learning the quadrille, and side by side they moved, Harriet matching Evelyn’s steps, moving in time to the strains of a music box.
    “When I am old enough to attend a royal ball, I am going to dance all night, and I shall wear a gown more beautiful than my mother’s.”
    “I think you will be the loveliest girl on the dance floor,” Evelyn said, winning a big smile from Harriet. “Tomorrow,” she continued as she crossed behind Harriet, “we’ll go to the ballroom and practice. The quadrille requires a lot of room.”
    Harriet snapped a startled look at Evelyn. “Mamma said I am not to go anywhere in the palace, that the queen doesn’t like me underfoot.”
    “She doesn’t like any of us underfoot,” Evelyn clarified. “And she certainly does not like the ballroom opened. So it will have to be our secret.”
    “Do you mean it, truly?” Harriet asked, her eyes shining with excitement.
    “Of course!” Evelyn said. “I should never jest about such a thing! Watch your right foot, Harriet.”
    “Pardon, madam,” a deep voice intoned.
    The footman’s arrival elated Evelyn; she quickly moved to close the music box before breathlessly whirling about…and coming almost nose to shoulder with her husband.
    She was expecting the footman to say Mary had sent for her—not deliver her husband.
    His presence shocked her. He looked magnificent, wearing a coat of navy superfine and tan trousers. His waistcoat, embroidered in gold, hugged a trim waist, and his neckcloth looked as if it had just been pressed. He was as finely dressed as any member of the royal family, but that was not what caught Evelyn’s attention. It was his expression. It was cool and dangerously determined.
    “His lordship Lindsey,” the footman needlessly announced from somewhere behind him.
    “I would like a word, madam,” he said, his blue eyes settling very firmly on hers.
    “Unfortunately, I haven’t time,” Evelyn said primly. “I am expecting an audience with the king at any moment—”
    “Ooh, the king,” he said, sounding impressed. “Naturally, if the king calls for you, I will not delay you.”
    Evelyn eyed him closely. He raised one brow, silently challenging her. “Would you give the footman leave, madam?”
    She reluctantly glanced at the footman. Then at Harriet. “Lady Harriet, please go with Thomas, will you? I shan’t be more than a moment.”
    The footman stood back, waiting for Harriet to come along. She went reluctantly, tilting her head back to peer up at Nathan as she went.
    If Nathan noticed her, he gave no indication—his gaze was locked on Evelyn.
    When they had gone, Evelyn said, “Whatever you have come to say, please say it and go.”
    “Why the rush, love? Here we are, alone, in a room that connects to a room with a bed…” One brow rose above the other in invitation, and he smiled.
    The very suggestion sent a tantalizing shiver down Evelyn’s spine; she quickly folded her arms across her body.
    “No?” he asked, still smiling. “I rather thought as much.” He clasped his hands behind his back and glanced about the room, taking in the furnishings. The queen believed in economy—the rooms were sparsely appointed, but the furnishings were of the highest quality.
    “So this is where you have lived.”
    “Obviously,” she said. When in London, at least. Sometimes at Windsor and Frogmore. But she did not explain that to him.
    He ignored her caustic remark and paused to touch the music box. When he opened it, a Limoges porcelain figurine of a dancing couple began to twirl around in time to a Handel piece. The box had been made especially for her—Pierce had commissioned it to commemorate the first time they’d danced.
    Nathan lifted his gaze. “Yours?”
    Evelyn hugged herself tighter. “Yes.”
    “My money? Or a gift?”
    Oh, how she despised his intrusion! “A gift.”
    He smiled wryly. “I infer from your