An Indecent Proposition Read Online Free Page B

footman who opened the door, and headed straight for his study.
    Unlike the cluttered room at the sprawling Mayfair mansion the dukes of Rothay had called home for several centuries, Derek’s sanctuary was neat and organized. All his papers were stacked on one corner of his desk, the new correspondence in the middle of the blotter, his favorite whiskey in a decanter on a tray to the side. The room smelled like beeswax and faintly of tobacco, and usually he found comfort in the paneled walls, and the oil painting of the Berkshire countryside above the fireplace was one of his favorites. In his current state of emotional unrest, even the bucolic impression of the rolling downs did nothing for his restless spirit.
    He sank into the chair behind his desk and eyed his unopened letters with a jaded look. On top sat a plain envelope with no seal, only his name written in neat script on the front. Curious, he plucked it off the pile and opened it.
    My Lord Manderville:
    Meet me at the Flower and Swine in Holborn at ten o’clock this evening. The private parlor will be reserved for our discussion.
    Ah yes, the damned bet.
    No signature, but he recognized the writing from the note he’d read earlier. Well, the lady was prompt, he’d give her that. It was an easy assumption to guess Nicholas had gotten a similar missive.
    He picked up the letter opener with his family crest emblazoned on the metal handle, and twirled it idly between his fingers.
    Fine, he thought with fierce resignation. Why not attend? Why not do his best to prove his sexual prowess? At the least, he’d have a distraction from his current state of apathetic self-pity, plus be able to entertain himself with a warm, willing woman.
    If he closed his eyes, maybe he could even pretend he was making love to Annabel. With that strategy he might win after all.

Chapter Three
    T he inn was small, tucked into an East End neighborhood Caroline hadn’t visited before. The disreputable exterior had given her pause, but it was perfect for her purposes, as the few bleary patrons in the smoky, dank taproom paid her little attention. The innkeeper had shown her to a sitting room that was at least a step up from the sticky floor and wobbly tables of the main area, and brought a bottle of wine that was doubtless not at all what the lofty Duke of Rothay and Lord Manderville were used to drinking, but it would have to do.
    Discretion was the order of the day.
    Her palms were damp underneath her gloves as she sank into a chair, and the veil felt as if it was going to suffocate her. Caroline arrived early, for she had no intention of making a grand entrance with both men already there, and she tried to ignore some definite inner trembles.
    Some sultry seductress you are , she mocked herself, not at all certain, even if she’d come this far, she didn’t want to bolt out of the room. The blackened beams in the low ceiling seemed too close, and a raucous laugh from some drunken patron drifted in with jarring clarity. The odor of stale spilled ale hung like a pall.
    I should leave now.
    No. She stiffened her spine and lifted her veil to take a quick sip from her glass. The life she’d lived so far was the stifling existence of a woman who never took a risk. She hadn’t had the opportunity to do so—until now. A wicked, scandalous chance to do something so daring and utterly out of character that she just couldn’t pass it by. An opportunity to change the damage done to her life, if things worked out as she hoped.
    That is, unless the duke and the earl declined once they realized just who she was. She supposed it was possible, but quite frankly, she thought she was the perfect person to settle their absurd male dispute. Time and again she’d gone over it.
    She was a widow, so it wasn’t like they’d be despoiling an innocent.
    She wanted nothing from them except the sensual promise implied in the very nature of their wager, which she intended to make clear.
    She was the last person