Unbuttoning Miss Hardwick by Deb Marlowe Read Free Book Online Page A

‘Braedon’s partner—is that Sir Thomas Cobbe?’
    Chloe realised she’d been edging away. ‘It is.’ She gave up and moved back to stand next to the countess. ‘He comes to train with Lord Marland as frequently as his schedule will allow.’
    ‘I heard he was the best. Knighted after he became sword master to the Prince Regent and his set, was he not?’ She winked in Chloe’s direction. ‘Of course that was years ago. He may be a bit older than Braedon, but I met him once in London. Poor as a church mouse, but I should say he’d be more than able to hold his own in battle. And he’s just as sword-mad as my brother.’
    Her eyes twinkled in good humour. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if we might find some common ground as well.’ She looked over her shoulder at the books Chloe had spread over a table and her spectacles lying conspicuously on top. ‘What was it you were working on, before you were so understandably distracted?’
    Chloe took another step back towards her work. ‘Lord Marland wishes to acquire an elusive weapon, a spear. I should perhaps—’
    She was interrupted by a clash of steel and a low grunt that echoed up from below. Lord Marland’s opponent had sunk to one knee. But the fight was far from finished. Though his sword was locked with the marquess’s, Sir Thomas suddenly held a wicked-looking dirk in his other hand. He aimed a vicious swing at Lord Marland’s knee.
    ‘Oh, that’s hardly cricket, is it?’ the countess cried.
    Her heart flopping like a fish, Chloe gasped as her employer jumped back, the blade missing him by a hair. Sir Thomas lunged to his feet and the battle raged on, as fiercely as ever.
    ‘They are marvellous, aren’t they?’ Lady Ashton murmured. ‘Just look at Braedon. Fully engaged, utterly alive. Battle brings it out of him.’ She sighed. ‘It was ever thus. It is only in these moments that he allows himself to step out of the shadows and into the light.’
    Chloe said nothing, though part of her burned to encourage the countess, to push and pry and question. The strange feeling was back again, alive in her gut, urging her to give in to the temptation. But she shouldn’t. She knew Lord Marland would find it intrusive. And therein lay her particular genius.
    Chloe knew how to blend, to fade. Transforming herself into what was needed most was a strategy that had allowed her to survive all the difficult periods of her life. It was just such a tactic that had convinced the marquess to grant her the secure haven of this position. And after so long, she knew what Lord Marland wished for and needed her to be. So she did what she’d become so adept at doing: she swallowed her curiosity, tucked away all of her wonder and excitement and unslaked desire. She was Hardwick. Calm, detached and efficient.
    Safe.
    She breathed deeply. The warriors outside had reached a détente. They’d discarded their weapons and were pouring tall drinks as they relived their skirmish.
    ‘Enough of them!’
    Chloe started when the countess reached out to tug her away from the window.
    ‘Come, Miss Hardwick. Let us spend some time getting to know each other.’
    ‘I’m sorry, my lady, but your brother was most insistent about the spear…’ Chloe began to make her way back to her work-strewn table.
    ‘He always is,’ Lady Ashton said with a roll of her eyes. ‘But answer a question for me—when was the last time you took an afternoon for yourself?’
    She hesitated, pursing her lips. She had taken a day, spent the morning walking along the seashore and the afternoon shopping for essentials in the village. But when had that been? ‘Months ago,’ she admitted.
    ‘Well, you are overdue then, are you not?’ The countess’s smile was pure wickedness. ‘I can be quite insistent, too, you know.’
    Chloe glanced again at the books and correspondence awaiting her. Her duty was clear. Yet those other voices were calling, too, and for the first time she wondered if duty—and