Free The Dangerous Lord by Sabrina Jeffries

actions.”
    Mrs. Box ignored Felicity’s appeal to the Deity. “I still can’t believe it—the Viscount St. Clair himself pretendin’ to be from the Gazette . And you, givin’ a viscount a scoldin’! That weren’t too wise, you know.”
    â€œWisdom be damned,” Felicity exclaimed. “I wouldn’t care if he were a dratted duke! That man deserved a scolding. Why he was the most overbearing, deceptive, son of a—”
    â€œAnd that’s another thing. You ought to watch your language, luv. Picked up too many bad habits from your father, if you ask me. Those ladies at the country house won’t tell you much if you’re talkin’ like a workman.” The servant cast her a considering glance. “Besides, I liked the viscount. He cut quite a figure. Tall, and those muscles…Lord have mercy on my soul, it made me wish I was young again. He weren’t at all like the gents your father was wont to bringhome. That were no pretty boy. But even with that swarthy skin, he looked appealin’.”
    â€œAppealing!” Felicity exclaimed, trying to forget that she too had found his rough looks and dark air disturbingly appealing. “If your taste runs to arrogant bullies, I suppose he’s appealing. He thought he could best me because I’m a woman. Well, I set him straight. He won’t bother me again.”
    â€œA pity that. Wouldn’t hurt you none to marry a viscount.”
    â€œStop that! You know quite well he’d never marry my kind. And even if he would, am I to latch on to any reasonably attractive gentleman who walks through the door? He keeps a mistress, for pity’s sake! I could never keep silent about that! ”
    â€œDon’t s’pose you could, bein’ a forthright lass and all. Still…is he rich?”
    â€œI’m sure he is, or he couldn’t afford a mistress.” She spotted the speculative look in her servant’s eyes, and added stubbornly, “I don’t care if he has a dratted fortune. His character is deficient.”
    Mrs. Box folded a frilly lace dressing gown and added it to the trunk. Felicity took it out. As if she’d be receiving anybody in her room at the Worthings!
    Tightening her lips, Mrs. Box shoved the dressing gown back in the trunk beneath the other clothes. “A fortune can make up for a great many deficiencies in a man’s character, ’specially when his face and form ain’t in the least deficient. If you ask me—”
    â€œI didn’t,” she snapped, though she gave up on fighting Mrs. Box over the dressing gown. The woman would simply sneak it in again once her back was turned.
    â€œI’m merely pointin’ out that we’ll soon have to sell the silver, if only to keep the boys in breeches. And speakin’ of that, we oughta sell this.” The housekeeper held up the painting she’d brought in earlier.
    â€œNo,” Felicity said, as soon as she saw what it was. “Not that one.”
    â€œIt’ll bring a pretty penny,” Mrs. Box coaxed.
    It probably would, even though the artist wasn’t of any consequence. Still, she couldn’t bear to part with it. The oil painting had been Papa’s favorite. It depicted a sultan and his harem in rich, dark reds and golds. Papa had claimed to like it for the colors and the lines, but she suspected he’d mostly liked the scantily clad women.
    Nonetheless, it was her secret favorite as well. She hated to admit to such wickedness, but she mostly liked the scantily clad sultan . He was so different from Englishmen, swarthy and handsome and proud…
    Good Lord , she thought with a groan. He’s the very picture of Lord St. Clair . No wonder she’d found the viscount so fascinating yesterday. Perhaps she should sell it.
    â€œI’ll think about it,” she said.
    â€œYou’d better do more’n that. You scarcely have enough ready