The Perfect Lady Worthe by Rose Gordon Read Free Book Online Page A

won’t call for maids to be sent, but I won’t compromise on the room. You’ll catch your death if you stay in this one.”
    Panic overtook her. While it was bad enough to think of Lord Worthe’s housemaids seeing her at her most vulnerable, it was worse to think his footmen would be the ones to see her in her current state! “Death would be preferable.”
    “I doubt that.” Lord Worthe lit the five candles in the candelabra nearest her then blew out the one he’d been holding.
    “I don’t know. Death by the ague might be painful, but it only lasts for a few weeks. Death by humiliation… that’s a lifetime.”
    “You know, for staring down the barrel of death, you sure do have a sharp tongue.” He adjusted the sash on his dressing robe and she blushed.
    He really shouldn’t be in here with her. She dismissed that thought. Where she was concerned the rules had always been different. Many thought of her as nothing more than a piece of furniture and didn’t pay her any notice. It hurt, to be sure, but it was the way of it. She’d been left alone with more gentlemen who’d come to visit Michael than she could count. None of them would dare do anything he shouldn’t. Not only would it be considered the blackest sin conceivable to even think of taking advantage or forcing themselves upon her, but there was nothing about her that could possibly spark such attention. That small ache in her chest she’d felt only a moment ago returned, but it was stronger this time. She ignored it. She knew her lot in life and had accepted it.
    “Besides,” he continued. “Don’t you think that those with the ague find themselves in less-than-dignified circumstances during their illness?”
    “Of course. But that just proves my point.” She turned her head to the side to see where Lord Worthe was going. “Their illness only lasts a few weeks, then nobody remembers anything except what a wonderful person they were.”
    “Would you stop being so morbid and tell me how to raise the back on this thing?” Lord Worthe said, dropping to his knees beside her chair.
    “Wh—what?”
    Without an answer, Lord Worthe’s hand reached under the back of her chair.
    Jane gripped her blanket tighter as if it’d actually offer her any sort of protection. “What are you doing?” she hissed when he all but crawled under the back of her chair.
    “Trying to puzzle out how this thing raises.” He ran his hand over the section where the back met the seat. “It’d go a lot faster if you’d just tell me.”
    “There’s a release lever to pull up,” she squeaked. “But why—”
    Pop.
    “Found it.” The triumph in his voice was both amusing and annoying. “Clutch your blanket as if it were a lifeline, I’m going to set you up and I’d hate for you to have to avoid me for the remainder of your life for fear of dying of humiliation.”
    She’d hate to have to avoid him for the rest of her life too. She blushed, thankful for the dimly lit room and the perfectly logical excuse—him raising her chair—for such a blush. He’s just being kind to you because you’re Michael’s sister and he feels sorry for you. As if a bucket of icy water from the pond at Holbrook Hall had just rained down on her, her blush was gone. He was just being kind. Nothing more. Which really was a good thing because as she’d suspected earlier, he’d make a wonderful husband.
    Lord Worthe pushed her backrest into place then took a step back as if to admire his work and congratulate himself. “What has you smiling like a cat who’s spotted the cream?”
    “You.”
    He jabbed a finger at his chest. “Me?”
    “Mmmhmm.” She idly straightened her lap blanket. “Your name is most definitely staying on The List .”
     

 
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
    Gareth bit his tongue to keep from responding to her last statement. Quite honestly, he had no desire to hold a coveted spot on the list of Potential Husbands for Charlotte . Jane’s? Perhaps. Still not a