A Little Mischief Read Online Free PDF

of you,” he interrupted in a heated tone. “You’re the one who started that odd Wallflower Society.”
    Isabella gasped and stiffened with indignation. Wallflower Society? Her group of ladies? How dare he use that derogatory term in connection with her ladies’ group? What nerve!
    “I beg your pardon, sir. I will not allow you to besmirch my—”
    “Never mind that right now, Miss Winslowe. What have you and your group of misfits done to Gretchen?”
    Isabella’s temper rose with her chin and her shoulders. This man was impossible to talk to. She should have insisted on taking Gretchen to her aunt, and would have if she had known that the earl was an ill-mannered ogre.
    “We have done nothing, Lord Colebrooke. I’ve only tried to see to her best interest under extremely trying circumstances. Furthermore, I will gladly explain to you if you will see fit to let me finish a sentence without interrupting me.”
    Gretchen’s sobs grew quieter, and her brother visibly relaxed, if only a little. “Finish your sentence,” he commanded. “And be quick about it.”
    It was clear that the small concession was as close as she was going to get to an apology or politeness from him. Obviously the man was used to asking questions and then giving orders without waiting for answers.
    “Thank you.”
    If this wasn’t a most unusual of circumstance, Isabella would turn and walk out on this man and not say another word to him—ever. But she couldn’t do that to Gretchen, and she did have Mr. Throckmorten to worry about.
    Isabella moistened her lips and took a deep breath. There was no easy way to get the job done. She said, “I’m afraid I have some disturbing news.”
    “What could be more disturbing than Gretchen falling apart in my arms?”
    “Your sister killed a man in my garden.”

Three
    Hot denial flashed across Lord Colebrooke’s face. “That is an outrageous accusation, Miss Winslowe. What kind of trickery are you up to?”
    “This is no trick, Lord Colebrooke. I’m quite serious.”
    “It’s true, Danny,” Gretchen whispered, looking up at him with red, tear-soaked eyes that pleaded for help. “I hit him with a marble statue and he fell dead to the ground. I didn’t mean to kill him. What are we going to do?”
    She started softly weeping again and tried to bury her face in his coat once more.
    The earl gently forced her to face him. He picked up the glass he’d just taken from Isabella and said to her, “Here, stop crying and drink this, Gretchy. You are home now and everything will be all right. You must calm down so I can find out what the devil you and Miss Winslowe are talking about.”
    Gretchen would not be consoled or talked into drinking the brandy. Lord Colebrooke should know that there were times a lady just had to cry until there were no more tears.
    Isabella disliked barging into what was really a family situation, but unfortunately, she was already in the middle of this horrid affair. The dead man was in her garden. It was clear to her that the consoling earl wasn’t going to get any more out of Gretchen this afternoon. She was overwrought.
    At the risk of provoking further resentment, Isabella dared to offer, “Lord Colebrooke, may I suggest that perhaps Gretchen’s maid should take her upstairs to lie down. There are things you and I need to discuss, and I don’t believe we have much time.”
    He pierced her with another cold gaze before looking at Gretchen. “Very well, Miss Winslowe. Stay where you are,” he ordered. “I’ll be right back.”
    Isabella watched him walk out with his sister wrapped firmly in his arms. She heard him call for Gretchen’s maid as he climbed the stairs. Lord Colebrooke was the most exasperating person she had ever had the misfortune to meet. He couldn’t have been more unapproachable if he’d been a wild boar.
    She realized again that her knees were shaking and her insides were trembling. Thank God she had managed to get over her initial fear of