The Mad Lord's Daughter by Jane Goodger Read Free Book Online Page A

beneath you wasn’t particularly enjoyable, despite the sexual release it afforded him.
    No, he was quite happy with his mistress. She was not demanding, but was very willing when he was in London, which was most of the time these days, thanks to his duties in the House of Lords. No, Martha was the perfect woman. She never demanded anything but pleasure. She was never jealous, never spoke of love or missing him or any other such nonsense.
    Frankly, he would be quite content to enter his old age living in his town house or manor in Cambridge and never returning to his country estate. John thrived there, but Lord Braddock felt as if he were suffocating.
    “You needed to see me, my lord?” Miss Stanhope said, striding into the room without even a knock. This was precisely the type of woman he liked to avoid, the very type that fancied themselves in love with him, who would beg for love, then lie like a corpse in the marriage bed. He suppressed a shudder at the thought.
    It wasn’t as if Miss Stanhope wasn’t desirable; she was. But she wasn’t the type of woman one tupped and then said good-bye to. If he ever got her into his bed—which he had absolutely no intention of doing—he’d be forced to marry her. No doubt she’d want children, despite her age, and expect affection and attention. He was done with all that, thank God.
    “Yes, I wanted to speak to you about whom you plan to introduce Melissa to once the season does start. My son has come up with a rather lengthy list of prospects. I’m familiar with many of the families, if not the young men themselves, and wonder if you could offer any insight of your own.”
    She pinched her nose unattractively, no doubt uncomfortable since their confrontation about her smile and trying desperately not to make any expression remotely similar to a smile. She wore a stiff, unrelentingly gray gown that covered her from her toes to her chin, with almost no adornment but for a small ruby pin by her throat. He wondered idly who had given it to her, for it was not an inexpensive piece.
    “If you have the list, I will look at it later,” she said, thrusting a hand out, much like a schoolmistress would to take an assignment.
    “I would like your immediate opinion, if you don’t mind.”
    This seemed to fluster her for some reason, and her cheeks, which were a tad too sharp in her otherwise pretty face, turned pink. “I’ve left your son with Miss Atwell alone in the library.”
    “And?”
    “And it is certainly not proper for them to be alone together.”
    Lord Braddock narrowed his eyes. He knew precisely what she was implying, and he didn’t care for it. “Why ever not? They are cousins.”
    She let out a small huff of air through her nose, like a miffed little dragon. “They are not cousins, and your son is aware they are not. It is not at all proper for an unrelated, unmarried man and woman to be alone together for an extended amount of time.”
    Lord Braddock folded his hands in front of him on his desk, and something about his demeanor must have disturbed Miss Stanhope, for she stiffened ever so slightly. He supposed, he thought placidly, that she detected his anger.
    “My son, Miss Stanhope, is perhaps the most honorable and trustworthy man I know—including myself. He is fully aware of Melissa’s situation and would die before compromising her or disobeying me. I would trust him with my life.”
    Miss Stanhope looked both chagrined and startled by his ferocity. “I certainly did not mean to suggest . . .” She stopped, because that was precisely what she had done—suggested that his son would dishonor him. “I believe you are being imprudent,” she said, lifting her chin. “To trust them is one thing; to thrust them together in this way is foolhardy. You must know that it only takes the hint of impropriety for tongues to wag and for reputations to be ruined.”
    What a brave little dragon she was, Lord Braddock thought, and wondered if that was why she was