Page 56 of A Cinderella to Redeem the Earl
She watched him go. So tall. So manly.
What an idiot she was. The moment an attractive man came into her orbit, she could not control her desires. No wonder he had turned so cold. He must think her a wanton.
Heat washed through her at the thought of losing his good opinion as he must surely realise she was no lady.
Once more, embarrassment mixed with shame made her feel ill.
Clearly, she had done the right thing by leaving society. No doubt by now she would have made a fool of herself with some gentleman or other and caused her family a terrible scandal.
Obviously, she could not trust herself to behave in a ladylike fashion.
And now, located so close his bedroom, she was asking for trouble. The man was far too tempting for her carnal self.
And that was the problem.Shewas the problem. Something about her made a man forget he was a gentleman. And judging from the way he had withdrawn from her so abruptly, Dart also found her passion unnatural.
Unless she got herself under control, she was going to ruin everything.
No. She could not allow her proclivities to ruin her life. Would not.
No more kisses. No more passion. From now on it must be nothing but business.
Rain on the drive down to Rake Hall from London had soaked Damian to the skin.
Good.
He didn’t deserve comfort.
He had almost let a sweet little kiss make him change his mind about the future, to divert him from his purpose.
A few days away from Rake Hall had helped him put things in a proper perspective.
Pamela was attracted to him, as he had intended. The fact that he found her alluring, that he liked her, had no bearing on his objectives. He could not afford to be soft-hearted. He had promised his father that those who benefited from the destruction of their family would be suitably punished.
He forced himself to recall the way his mother had looked those last few terrible months and how his father had sunk into despair. He had been unable to do anything for his parents while they lived, but he could certainly keep his promise to them now in death.
He finished making his horse comfortable, made sure it had food and water and strode for the house.
Stripping off his wet cloak as he entered the front hall, he made for his study and a nip of brandy to warm him up.
He stopped on the threshold.
Pamela, head bent over a ledger, was occupying his chair.
Instead of her cook’s cap, her head was bare and her hair braided and twisted into ropes of gleaming chestnut.
Sensing his presence, she looked up. Her smile was hesitant, as if she was trying to judge his mood. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘You are a day earlier than I expected. I hoped to have this done before you arrived.’
‘This?’ he asked,
‘Yes. I have been working on these ledgers. They are a bit of a mess and I thought to sort them out for you.’ She frowned. ‘There are some odd entries that I do not quite understand, but I am sure you can explain.’ She turned the book towards him.
He glanced down and saw that she was talking about Long. The son of the man who, along with her father, had stolen his family’s wealth. He had been keeping track of the young man’s loans from the moneylender Damian had recommended. A man who acted for Damian and who was actually using Damian’s money to make the loans. And because of this, Long received a better rate of interest than he could obtain elsewhere. Thus ensuring Damian held all of his debts.
How very clever of her to notice those entries as being different.
‘What about them?’ he said casually.
‘I don’t understand how he can be in this much debt. It doesn’t seem to tally with his IOUs.’
