The Wild One by Danelle Harmon Read Free Book Online Page B

Replaceable
or not, she was not one for waste.
    "Do you mind?" she asked, with civil
politeness.
    He shrugged and waved his glass, never
leaving his place at the mantle. "Suit yourself."
    With Charlotte in her arms, Juliet sank into
the deep, butter-soft leather, painfully conscious of her
appearance. How carefully she had chosen her clothes that morning,
hoping to make the right impression on this man whose help and
charity she had crossed an ocean to seek. Now, her apple-green
skirts, parted to reveal a petticoat lovingly embroidered with
little roses, were dark with blood. Chalky mud caked her boots, her
stomacher was soaked, and blood smeared the front of the smart,
pine-green jacket she had chosen to match the ivy that twined
itself along the gown's hem. She looked a mess.
    But the duke, true to his word, did not seem
to care. He wasted no time in getting the discussion underway,
sparing no thought for Juliet's feelings, her pride, or the fact
that she was a guest in his house and deserved more kindness than
he seemed capable of giving. She had no sooner sat down than he
asked her, bluntly, how she'd met Charles. She told him the truth.
His scowl, and the impatient look in his eyes as she related the
tale, made her want to squirm with discomfort. This was not going
well. Not going well at all.
    "So. You first saw Charles whilst he was
drilling his troops on Boston Common. Love at first sight, you
say." He gave a bitter little laugh. "You'll understand if I find
the notion rather difficult to swallow."
    "Charles was a very handsome man."
    "Charles was from one of England's oldest,
most aristocratic families and would not have married beneath him.
As a second son, he could not afford to. What is it about you,
then, that commended you to him?"
    "I find your question insulting, Your
Grace," she said quietly.
    "Nevertheless, I'll have an answer from
you."
    "I don't know what it was about me that he
loved."
    "You have a passably decent figure, a pretty
face, and a fine dark eye. I suspect little else was needed to
bring a man to his knees — and into your bed."
    "You dishonor your brother with such talk,
Your Grace. Charles was a fine man."
    "Yes, well, far away from home and thrown
into a nest of rebel vipers and their conniving females, the devil
only knows what goes through a man's head. Any warm body will do, I
expect."
    "Charles and I loved each other. He wanted
to marry me."
    "Before or after he found out you were
breeding?"
    She blushed. "After."
    "Did it ever occur to you that he was merely
being honorable and that his heart might have lain elsewhere?"
    "Indeed, it did not."
    "Did it ever occur to you that it might have
been arranged at his birth that he marry a woman of his own
station, whose money would have allowed him to live a lifestyle to
which he was accustomed?"
    "He made no mention of such a woman, Your
Grace, and Charles was not one to worship the god of money."
    "Did it ever occur to you that his family
might not approve of his union with you?"
    She looked him straight in the eye and said
quietly, "Yes."
    "And yet you came here anyhow."
    "I had no choice."
    "You had no choice."
    Juliet clenched her fist beneath a fold of
Charlotte's blanket, trying to keep a check on her rising temper.
Her face felt hot, and she knew her color betrayed her, but she
vowed he would not get the better of her, no matter how hard he
tried. If by forcing her to remain here in her disheveled clothes,
attacking her with his insolent questions, and implying things that
were not true he sought to put her off balance, he had another
thing coming. She was made of stronger stuff than that.
    Politely, she said, "I fear, Your Grace,
that you suspect me of being some sort of fortune hunter. That I
lured your brother to me so I could claw my way up the social
ladder by use of his name and rank. But I'll have you know that
that wasn't the case. Charles was one of the king's officers. I was
a maiden of Boston, and maidens of Boston did not