It Takes a Scandal Read Online Free Page A

copies they could find. With a husband of her own, Joan might actually be able to test some of the more incredible acts described, and—presuming she was a very good friend indeed—report back on the truth of them. The only trouble was, her new husband had taken her off to his family estate in the country, and the issues had gone with her. Or so Abigail supposed; if she had a handsome husband, she would be sure to take every issue with her, for helpful suggestion and instruction.
    “You agreed,” Abigail reminded her sister.
    “I know!” Penelope put her hands on her temples. “I thought there would be a new issue, or three or four, by now. How could it be a month without even one ?”
    “Perhaps Lady Constance retired to the country for the summer as well.”
    “Don’t say that!” Penelope kicked at the ground, sending a stray pebble bounding into the grass. “Papa’s already decided we shall have a ball. He intends to impress everyone in Richmond right from the start.”
    “Already?” Abigail felt a stirring of interest. “We haven’t even taken possession of the house. When does he propose to have it?”
    “In a fortnight. Just enough time for Mama to order a new gown,” Penelope finished in a gruff imitation of their father. “He might ask us! Joan won’t be there, we shan’t know a single soul in the room, and now Papa will be expecting all sorts of noblemen to appear magically in front of us, begging every dance of the evening.” Her tone expressed what she thought the odds of that were.
    “We shall have to endure as best we can,” murmured Abigail dryly.
    Her sister just scowled.
    “It might be a wonderful change,” she pointed out. “We’ve had plenty of chances to meet gentlemen in London, with no real luck. Perhaps in Richmond there are more men of taste and good humor, and less pride and condescension.”
    “Perhaps,” Penelope begrudged. “But it’s so quiet! Why would anyone interesting want to spend time here?”
    “It’s one summer.” Abigail laughed. “You make it sound like eternal exile. And I shall tease you to no end if you end up meeting the man of your dreams here.”
    “I highly doubt it. You can have the gentlemen farmers and country squires.” Penelope nudged her shoulder with a small grin. “I shall save myself for an exciting, mysterious man of town who would kill and maim for the chance to spend just one night in my arms.”
    “That’s a very short-lived marriage,” Abigail observed. “To say nothing of what Mama would say about it.” She knew Penelope was wildly irked about being so closely watched.
    Her sister gave a gusty sigh. “Mama! As if I’d even have a chance at a clandestine kiss with her trailing around behind me everywhere! Abby, you must help me—I swear I’ll run mad otherwise. I will owe you the greatest favor in the world if you promise.”
    She thought about it. There was no finer conspirator than Penelope, if one wanted to sneak around. Such a favor might come in handy at a future date. Besides, she was sure she knew what her sister wanted, and it would certainly suit her as well. “Very well. I’ll help you track down any copies of 50 Ways to Sin that might have escaped London.”
    “Thank you!” Penelope seized her hand and squeezed it near to pain. “Bless you, Abby!”
    “And in return you must not pester me to death about it.” She pulled free of her sister’s fervent grasp. “I mean it, Pen. I’ll try to find it, but if you nag—”
    “Not a bit!” Her sister looked wounded. “I’ll merely help.”
    Abigail had suffered Penelope’s help before. She put up one hand. “Only if I ask for your help. Otherwise you must hold your peace.”
    Penelope rolled her eyes. “Very well.”
    “And one more promise . . .” She fixed a stern eye on her sister. “I get to read it first.”
     
     
    Chapter 2
     
    M ama must have been more resistant than usual to Papa’s persuasion, for when the Westons reached Hart House