Reckless Viscount Read Free Page A

the bedroom she had first been shown to just a few hours earlier.
    She closed the door behind her and gave the lock a turn for good measure. Then felt foolish for doing so and turned the lock back again.
    She was not usually so flustered. But then again, she had never before been caught in such a humiliating position. Her cheeks burned with shame and she pressed her hands to her face as she paced to the casement window.
    Eavesdropping on her hosts before they had even agreed to her father’s request.
    How utterly stupid.
    Abbigael unlatched the windows and threw them wide. The brisk air of the Essex countryside swept into the room and cooled the heat in her cheeks. The open windows presented a stunning view of the Blackbournes’s manicured gardens not yet fully awaked from the winter. In the distance, a faint shimmer of silver reflecting in the afternoon sun hinted at the presence of a trout stream.
    Abbigael should have been delighted by the sight as she loved fishing. But at the moment, her thoughts were not coming together in a normal fashion. The pleasant scene spread out before her faded away from the image of a grinning rogue with lightly tousled caramel-colored hair, eyes that were neither blue nor green nor hazel but some unique mixture of them all, and a manner that was far too bold.
    Oh, Abbigael had met bold men before. Some of her father’s political cronies could stand to take a few lessons in social restraint. But she had never before been the object of such…suggestive attention.
    The handsome man from the library had an overabundance of charm and had displayed no moral reticence as he taunted her for his own amusement. He knew what he was about, to be sure. No honorable gentleman would have spoken to her in such a brazen and suggestive manner. He had almost drawn her in with the soothing rhythm of his words and what she at first thought might be a glint of real appreciation in his gaze. Luckily, she’d caught herself before she managed to make an even bigger fool of herself. The golden sparkle in his eyes was more likely the flash of careless mischief and willful wickedness, certainly not a reflection of sincere and honorable interest.
    She turned away from the window and crossed to the enormous four-poster bed that dominated the room. She lifted her skirts to climb onto the high mattress and stretch out crossways on her stomach, folding her hands beneath her chin.
    Whoever he was, Abbigael hoped she would not have cause to see him again. Not only had he been witness to her shameful behavior, he also made her feel acutely aware of herself in a way that was decidedly uncomfortable. There had been a few brief moments when she had felt as if she were seeing herself through his eyes, and in doing so had seen something unexpected and unusual.
    And she did not like that one bit.
    She needed everyone to see her as no different than any of the other young ladies out hunting for a worthy husband. At twenty-one years of age, she was already going to be older than most of the other girls. Add to that the fact that she was from Ireland and no raving beauty and she already had enough to overcome. She did not need the added burden of being seen as an oddity.
    A bright thought sparked through her melancholy mood and she scrambled to her knees in the center of the bed. The encounter with the unknown gentleman had proven one thing in her favor. The fact that he, scoundrel though he was, considered her for a brief interlude of flirtation gave her hope beyond measure that her trip to England may be successful after all. What he had said just before she left was perhaps her greatest advantage. No one here knew her.
    But she wasn’t naïve.
    Her past was known by too many, and she only had so much time before someone recalled the gossip connected to her name. Her father, as powerful as he was in Dublin, had not been able to stem the tide of malicious talk that had doomed her chances of marriage in Ireland. She prayed London