Master of Love Read Free

from a man of his reputation.
    The blonde cast a speculative glance at Callista. “And is this the librarian who came with them?”
    Rexton turned toward Callista and urged her forward with a hand at her elbow. She stepped up but sidled away from his light grip. “Yes—my apologies,” he said. “Ladies, may I present Miss Higginbotham? She is indeed a book dealer and library organizer and comes on the recommendation of Sir George.”
    Her heart beat a loud staccato in her ears as she curtsied to the ladies, learning that the sharp-tongued Leticia was Lady Vaughnley and Anna, the beautiful blonde, Lady Barrington. To her relief, neither said anything untoward, although their gazes were appraising and their greetings cool.
    Lord Rexton widened the circle to include his older guest, who was wandering about and bending over to examine titles on book spines with great interest. “Charles, didn’t you say you knew Miss Higginbotham?”
    â€œIt was your father with whom I had an acquaintance, my dear.” Mr. Claremont came over and bowed. “A fine man. I was aggrieved to learn of his death last winter.”
    She dipped her head, horrified by a sudden sting of tears. Her father’s death had been over a year ago, but the day’s stress seemed to be bringing her emotions close to the surface. Luckily, Mr. Danvers was leading Lord Rexton away to examine the Greek tragedies. She didn’t want the viscount to see her so easily overwrought, especially when his presence only rattled her further.
    â€œThank you, Mr. Claremont,” she said, clearing her throat. “Was your acquaintance through my father’s book sales? I know he had dealings with several members of the Philosophical Society.”
    â€œYes, he often came to our meetings before he moved to the Continent, and he continued to obtain rare and foreign books for members when we weren’t able to find them in the shops here. He provided invaluable service for numerous gentlemen-scholars, including Sir George. I shouldn’t be surprised if many of these”—Mr. Claremont nodded toward the collection—“came to Sir George through your father. I’m delighted to see you continuing his work.”
    â€œIt’s ‘the Honorable’ Miss Higginbotham, isn’t it?” Lady Barrington interjected, looking Callista over in a way that set her nerves on alert.
    â€œYes, my father came into his title near the end of his life, when the barony passed to him after the death of a cousin.” The ladies had already sniffed out this information, of course, but were apparently after more details. Hare to their hound, Callista braced herself for the subtle but deadly interrogation of a pair of society ladies bent on flushing out the latest gossip.
    â€œHow nice for your family,” Lady Barrington said coolly.
    Callista smiled tightly and replied as little as she could while they questioned her about her family background and her father’s barony. At least they were civil, although she was sure their restraint had more to do with a desire for information and the current status they all shared as guests under Lord Rexton’s roof—and nothing at all with any charity toward her.
    Her father’s title still roused painful feelings. She supposed it was unfair, but she couldn’t help but trace the unraveling of their comfortable life in Paris back to that day when the packet of legal documents arrived from the London solicitors. Her father had determined to take seriously the duties of his new title in the House of Lords and moved the family back home to London. The stress of the inheritance, however, took a serious toll on his gentle nature, and his health started to fail rapidly. He’d lived barely a year after their return.
    â€œBut why do you seek to continue your father’s work?” Lady Vaughnley asked, brows raised. “Why thrust yourself into the