Too Scandalous to Wed by Alexandra Benedict Read Free Book Online Page A

ever heed the obscure ones? she had thought.
    But a patient Madam Jacqueline had explained to her the power of a subtle courtship. The thrill a man obtained from picking up “the scent” and then partaking in “the hunt,” as she’d put it. Henrietta need not change her appearance or manner in any wild way, the courtesan had said. Just a tweak here and there. A few extra pounds to give her figure the right curves. A more throaty voice to invite salacious daydreams. And a confident stride to attract attention. Enough alteration to draw Sebastian’s notice without disturbing the equanimity in the household. After all, she didn’t want her parents, her sisters to see what she was doing. Only Ravenswood.
    “I am well, my lord. Just enjoying the winter air. It’s so crisp and refreshing, wouldn’t you say?”
    “Yes, indeed,” he murmured.
    He was staring at her. Hard. Trying to decipher the puzzle she had become with those avid blue eyes of his. But he would never learn the true lengths to which she had gone to capture his heart. He’d wring her neck for sure if he ever found out.
    “How was your voyage abroad, my lord?”
    “Quite pleasant, Miss Ashby.” He perused her briefly, his hot gaze ever so warming. “In fact, I intend to return to the mainland after Twelfth Night.”
    Her heart shuddered. “Really, my lord? We shall mourn the loss of your company.”
    Drat! He was running off again, and she wasn’t daft enough to believe his desertion had nothing to do with her. Well, she was just going to have to seduce the mulish man by Twelfth Night then.
    “And you, Miss Ashby? How have you fared these last five months?”
    “Very well, I daresay.”
    According to Madam Jacqueline, it was not so much what one said but how one said it that mattered. And Henrietta made sure to keep her voice steady and low, even under the viscount’s probing glare.
    “Then you are not ill, Miss Ashby?”
    “I am in perfect health, my lord. Why do you ask? Do I look ill?”
    He paused. “You look…different.”
    “Oh?” She quirked a brow. “In what way?”
    “I can’t quite put my finger on it, Miss Ashby.”
    I’m sure you can’t , she thought impishly. And she intended to keep him perplexed for a while more. If she flirted too firmly, he would guess at her intentions and dash off before Twelfth Night. She didn’t want to spend another five months stewing at home while he gallivanted about the mainland. Certainly not.
    She dipped her eyes to his booted toes. In a coy voice, she said, “You know me so well, my lord.”
    “Then something is amiss?”
    “Alas, I’m afraid so.” Eyes lifting to meet his once more, she whispered, “I have a secret.”
    “And will you share it with me, Miss Ashby?”
    “Only if you promise to never breathe a word of it.”
    He nodded slowly. “I promise on my honor as a gentleman.”
    Henrietta peeked from side to side, then said, “I’m having an affair.”
    Sebastian stopped breathing. She could tell by the scarcity of icy breath escaping his lips.
    But soon the icy clouds started forth once more—through his nose. “I don’t think I heard you right, Miss Ashby.”
    “It’s dreadful, I know.” She sighed, a gloved hand to her heart. “I’m heartily ashamed of myself.”
    His voice was taut, stiffly so. “And with whom are you having an affair?”
    “Why, with Mrs. Quigly’s pastries, of course.”
    He blinked. “What?”
    “Our new cook, Mrs. Quigly, is a wonder in the kitchen.” Henrietta twirled her eyes. “Her pastries are divine. I must admit, I’ve developed an unhealthy fondness for sugared cakes.”
    Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead he rubbed his lush lips together, deep in thought.
    Henrietta, enraptured by the subtle display of movement, had to whisk her gaze back up to meetthe viscount’s. Though her heart was thudding in her breast like a drum, she fixed a playful smile to her lips to conceal her fluster.
    “You are teasing me,