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

still unmarried. Had someone spread idle gossip about her? If someone had, he hadn’t heard of it, not that he ever paid much attention to such stuff. But when he’d been making inquiries about who might make his niece an excellent chaperone, Miss Stanhope’s name had come up more than once.
    “In my house,” he said succinctly, “there are no wagging tongues, Miss Stanhope. My son has earned my trust; I do not give it freely. And do not think I am blind to Melissa’s feminine attributes. It is for precisely this reason that my son is so important to her finding a proper match. He is her guardian, and as I have appointed him as such, I will not allow you or anyone else to spread false rumors about him or besmirch his character.”
    Ah, that bothered her, for her nostrils flared and her eyes flashed with an anger that was quite striking. “I do hope you are not suggesting that I would be the bearer of such gossip.”
    He smiled, though he knew it was not a very pleasant smile. “I would never suggest such a thing,” he said, and calmly handed her the list.
    Diane took the list, resisting the urge to throw the paper back into his hard, mocking face. He was just as cold and heartless and unforgiving as she’d always thought him to be, she decided, turning away and walking to the window where the light was better—and where she was away from him. No, that wasn’t true. She’d actually allowed herself to think, in her weakest moments, that Lord Braddock was a kind, understanding man whom she could admire. Inexplicably, her eyes burned as if she were on the verge of tears, which was ridiculous. Simply because she’d been set down by an arrogant, stiff, uncompromising, and foolish man? He’d made her feel silly for suggesting there was even a hint of impropriety in allowing his son to be alone with his niece.
    She stared blindly at the absurd list, at names she’d seen for years, of men who’d looked past her as if she were nothing more than a potted plant. Oh, how she loathed that men and women believed unmarried women of a certain age had cast off all their dreams of marriage and children. As if she was a dried-up old woman.
    Here she stood, in the presence of a man she’d admired for years, made to feel foolish simply for pointing out a real danger. Any tender thoughts she’d ever had of him—and they were very few indeed—seemed completely preposterous at the moment. Affronted, was he? Angry? Well, she was angry, too, for having her real and legitimate concerns dismissed out of hand. As if Lord Willington was such a paragon. Even priests were tempted by beautiful women. She was about to point out that fact, but when she looked up he was staring at her thoughtfully.
    “I should not have belittled your very real concerns,” he said slowly. “It’s a flaw of mine, you see, to know with absolute certainty that I am right. I am right in this case, but I do believe I could have been a bit more politic during our conversation.”
    Drat. Just when she was getting up a good temper, he had to apologize. At least it sounded very much like an apology. She nodded, not knowing what she could say that wouldn’t get him angry all over again. Instead, she walked to his desk and laid the list on the smooth, polished wood.
    “Any of these would do,” she said, then walked from the room.

Chapter 4
    The Covent Garden Theatre was one of the newest and largest theatres in London, having been rebuilt in 1858 after a devastating fire. The result was a magnificent structure in a classic style that resembled more a grand government building than a theatre. Staring at it, Melissa had a nearly overwhelming feeling of being in a dream—and it wasn’t a good dream.
    Everywhere she looked, there were people, horses, carriages, vendors, buildings, noise, dogs—and smells. She felt as if she were being crushed by it all and had to fight the urge to squeeze her eyes closed and hold her hands over her ears like a child.
    At first,