Read Secrets of a Scandalous Heiress for Free Online Page B

than any London ballroom he’d seen, nearly three stories in height and far longer than a cricket pitch. A wall of windows fronted the endless space, through which a weak and watery sun could be seen struggling to rise behind a misty rain. The surly weather could not keep these health seekers from their noxious-smelling mineral waters, though Joss thought they would receive much more benefit by keeping to their beds a few hours longer.
    He certainly would have liked to do so. It was far too early to begin today’s business, considering the previous day’s work had not ended for Joss until hours past midnight. His errand in Bath didn’t absolve him of his regular duties as Sutcliffe’s employee. Though he’d told Augusta he managed the baron’s correspondence and engagements, he also did a fair amount of soothing and currying, as though his cousin were a fractious horse. The comparison was especially apt considering how Sutcliffe had kicked over his traces recently.
    Their requisite daily training was much more difficult at a distance, though Bath lay a scant eight miles from Sutcliffe Hall. Over the past few days, the baron had flooded Joss with frantic letters, desperate notes sent by mail and by express. Neatly block printed at first, then scrawled in a nearly illegible flood of slanted writing, the urgency leaping from the page.
    Where are my favorite cuff links My brandy decanter is empty and I think the servants have been drinking from it Lady Sutcliffe wants more pin money What should I do if another of those threatening letters arrives When will you return to my house I need your advice
    Have you sold the land yet
    At least Sutcliffe managed to ask after Joss’s real errand at some point. And at least he had franked all those letters so Joss wasn’t responsible for paying the exorbitant postage.
    Joss had learned to be grateful for life’s small sanities.
    Though this was easier at an hour later than eight o’clock in the cursed morning . He rubbed at gritty eyes, then again scanned the crowd for Augusta. “Mrs. Flowers” had replied in the affirmative to Joss’s note the previous night, sending the same wiry urchin darting back through the streets with letter in hand and a demand for yet another coin. Joss had tossed the lad a shilling; too much by far, but by God, it felt like the first step toward freedom.
    There. A flash of burnt-umber hair, vivid in the gray-chased morning gloom, peeped from beneath the edge of a bonnet. It must be she, for several men stopped to engage her in conversation. As each then continued on his way, his expression said that all was right with the world, for a pretty woman had passed the time of day with him.
    Joss shouldered through the crowd making its lazy promenade about the room, stopping short before his quarry: Augusta, in a sedate printed gown beneath a warm brown pelisse. There was nothing about her clothing to draw notice, but her smile—that was extraordinary. Bright and sweet and cheeky, as though she found no greater pleasure than to stroll about a crowded room on a rainy morning, conversing with strangers.
    She was not alone, he noted a moment later: Augusta pushed an iron-framed wheeled chair in which was seated Lady Tallant. Joss deepened his hasty bow. “Good morning to you both. My lady. Mrs.…ah, Augusta.”
    The countess looked a bit thin and weary, though her greeting was as warm as Joss remembered from past meetings. “Mr. Everett. Thank you for your kindness to our young friend last night at the assembly.”
    â€œIt was my pleasure.” Joss pasted on a devil-may-care grin. How much had Augusta revealed—of her own secrets, and his?
    â€œThe countess,” said Augusta, “is aware of my widowhood.”
    â€œSuch a tragic loss,” agreed Lady Tallant, tugging a tasseled shawl about her shoulders. “Poor Mr. Flowers, to be trampled by a hippopotamus.”
    Augusta