The Worldly Widow Read Free Page B

outweighed its disadvantages. She became conscious that she was staring with her mouth agape.
    She pulled herself together and held out her hand. With her habitual poise, she brought the interview to an end. "I ' ll say good-bye, then, and take this opportunity to wish you every success in your chosen profession. "
    The unthinking remark was no sooner out of her mouth than Annabelle regretted it. She ' d used those practiced words, or words very like them, at the conclusion of many a business transaction. It did not seem proper, however, for the daughter of a vicar to voice such a sentiment and in such circumstances. As she slipped into her pelisse and donned her bonnet, she tried to view the whole matter philosophically.
    Thankfully, her poor father knew little of his daughter ' s enterprises. His living was in Yorkshire; London held no interest for him. As far as he was aware, his only child lived the life of a respectable widow under the auspices of her late husband ' s relatives. It never occurred to him to question the why, or wherefore, of the generous bank drafts Annabelle sent to him regularly when she ' d been left with only a very small competence. Annabelle was perfectly sensible of the fact that Jonathan Summers would not under any circumstances condone his daughter ' s mode of living if he ever learned of it.
    That she was part owner and director of Bailey ' s Press was not generally known. To the world, she was a lady of fashion with nothing in her head but the next rout, ridotto, ball, or masquerade. She enjoyed the social whirl. She was the first to admit it. But she took far more pleasure in the challenges that the business world presented. She ' d turned Bailey ' s Press around till it held its present position of eminence in the publishing world. It tickled her fancy to observe, on almost every sofa table in the most prestigious drawing rooms in Mayfair, a novel or diary or biography which Bailey ' s had published. That she had to conceal the extent of her involvement with Bailey ' s from the high sticklers of the ton or face public censure seemed totally nonsensical, in her opinion. It was, however, the way of her world. A lady might include any number of commercial interests in her holdings as long as she turned over the management of those same holdings to some enterprising male. But to be the driving force behind a thriving business could easily spell social ruin. It was an unwritten code that only a fool would think to trespass with impunity. Annabelle was no fool. She endeavored to keep the two milieus in which she was at home entirely separate. And she had succeeded.
    Without warning, from the opened doorway a masculine voice interposed, "Monique, my little pigeon, I ' ve brought you that trinket you so much admired. "
    Miss Dupres ' s face lit up with pleasure. "Dal! " she cried out, and crossing the room at a run, threw herself into the arms of the intruder.
    Annabelle ' s heart lurched. She recognized the man as the dark and brazen stranger from the hotel. With great presence of mind, she edged away from the couple and turned her back on them, staring fixedly into the drawn shades at the windows.
    "Diamonds, " breathed Monique, and Annabelle surreptitiously glanced over her shoulder to see the gentleman fasten a thin rope of those gems around the lady ' s wrist.
    "Now you can thank me properly, " he said with a lecherous smirk, and suiting action to words, he brought his head down in an open-mouthed kiss that had Annabelle ' s toes curl inside her little high-heeled boots. What effect such an embrace might be having on the other girl Annabelle could scarcely imagine. She wished only that the floor beneath her might sink and she with it.
    The minutes passed. The kiss continued with unabated passion. That she should continue as a spectator in such a scene of depravity was unthinkable. Marshaling every ounce of her composure, Annabelle put her head down and made a beeline for the exit. She had almost