The Perfect Scandal by Delilah Marvelle Read Free Book Online Page B

waved, hoping that by being friendly she would appear a little less devious.
    He hesitated, then lifted his own hand and offered a single, curt wave with the flick of his wrist.
    She drew in a shaky breath and let it out. Maybe this was the opportunity she’d been waiting for. Words were not always needed to spark interest. Zosia waved again, ensuring this time it was far more enthusiastic and visible.
    He casually set his hands on his hips and shook his dark head from side to side, attempting to convey his complete disappointment in her lack of maturity.
    But he stayed.
    She giggled. Pushing her dark braid over her shoulder, she shifted forward in her chair, closer toward the sill. It was obvious by his stance and the way he lingered that he wanted to play.
    Zosia leaned far forward and balanced herself on the ledge of the sill. Setting her lips against the pane, which sent her swinging locket to chink against the window, she playfully smothered kiss after kiss across the entire window, before leaning back andadmiring the moist, smeared marks she’d left all over the glass.
    He readjusted the belt of his robe, his broad shoulders shifting, and braced the frame of the window again. Only this time, he stared her down as if restraining himself from leaping across the square and collecting those kisses himself.
    â€œSo you do like me,” she announced softly. How very curious. Why would a bachelor who was supposedly in the market for a wife avoid a woman he appeared to like? Did he already know about her amputation?
    The door rattled, startling her into veering her whole chair toward the direction of the door.
    â€œCountess?” There was a tapping and the rattling of the knob. “You should not be latching your door.”
    Zosia rolled her eyes and dropped her hand into her lap. Mrs. Wade. Forever tending to her needs as if she were two. “I am quite well, Mrs. Wade,” she called over her shoulder. “There is no need for you to come in.”
    â€œI heard a terrible noise from within your room. Please assure me all is well.”
    â€œYes, yes.” She waved her hand about. “The curtains and the rod fell off the wall. As old as this house is, I dare say everything will fall off the wall in time.But there is no need for concern, I assure you. All is well. You may retire.”
    â€œYou cannot possibly expect me to retire without even knowing what—”
    â€œMrs. Wade,” Zosia snapped, turning her chair and glaring at the door. She wished the woman would cease treating her like an invalid. A missing leg did not denote a missing brain. “I have a right to privacy. Do I not?”
    â€œYes, Countess, of course, but—”
    â€œ Good night. Or as we Poles say, dobra noc .”
    â€œAnd what of your laudanum?”
    Zosia smoothed the lace and linen nightdress against the length of her sore thighs and winced. She needed to use her crutches more, lest she become too sore. She hated being dependent on a rancid liquid that made her feel like she was drowning in a hazy fog. She considered pain a much better option than missing out on reality. “I feel content to sleep as I am, thank you. Tomorrow, I intend to make use of my crutches and take a few turns about the square. That should relieve whatever discomfort I am in.”
    â€œYou know full well you aren’t permitted to leave the house without His Majesty’s approval. If you seek a turn about the square, Countess, you must send him a missive.”
    She was surrounded by wardens, not servants. She’d already sent His Majesty countless missivesasking for permission to leave the house, only to be told it wasn’t advisable. “His Majesty seems to be under the delusion that I have no rights left to my name. I am tired of his games and refuse to be confined to both a chair and a house and will find my way to the door whether it pleases His Majesty or not. I suggest you send him a missive