A Wicked Pursuit Read Online Free PDF Page A

great-great-grandfather was the king himself?”
    “And that his great-great-grandmother was a French trollop, made into a duchess for services rendered,” Gus said. “Of course I know. But that has nothing to do with the fact that he was asking for her the moment I found him in the woods, and she has yet to visit him.”
    “I’m sure she’ll come in time, Gus, as soon as she feels able.” Awkwardly Papa put his hand on Gus’s shoulder, trying to soothe her when she was in no humor to be soothed. “What of you, duck? It’s been very good of you to sit with his lordship, but I don’t want you falling ill, too.”
    “I won’t fall ill, Papa,” she protested. “His lordship’s injured, not sick.”
    “Still, if you exhaust yourself, you’ll take ill fast enough,” Papa said, his broad face softening. “It’s times like this that you remind me so much of your mother, Gus. She’d be so intent on helping everyone else that she’d refuse to think of herself, too.”
    Gus’s smile was wobbly with emotion. Papa seldom spoke of her mother, not like this. Possessing freckles and pale brown hair, Gus knew she resembled her mother—she’d only to look at her mother’s portrait in the library to see it—but she’d rather be like her mother in this, the ways that would have made her most proud.
    “I try, Papa,” she said simply.
    “And you succeed, duck,” he said, awkwardly patting her shoulder. “Don’t know what I’ll do without you, when it’s your turn to go to London and find a husband.”
    She blushed and ducked her chin. “Oh, Papa,” she said. “It won’t be anytime soon.”
    “It will,” he said, “as soon as Julia settles her own affairs. You’re nearly twenty. With her to help you, maybe you’ll snare a duke for yourself, too. That’s why I want you to come away from this poor fellow with me now.”
    “Papa, please, I don’t—”
    “You’ll listen to me, Gus,” he said firmly. “There’s an unhealthy miasma around every invalid, no matter the cause. As soon as that nurse returns, I want you to retire to your rooms and rest, and then come down to dine with the rest of us this evening. I don’t want you hiding yourself up here any longer.”
    “I haven’t been hiding here,” Gus said with equal firmness; she was, after all, his daughter, too. “I have been giving his lordship the best possible care, and it’s fortunate that one of us has. I needn’t remind you that he was riding your Hercules—a horse that never respects any rider but you, Papa—at the time of his fall, and who knows what manner of foolishness Julia was doing when—”
    “No more argument, Gus,” Papa said gruffly, his hand like a bear’s paw on her shoulder. “For you to speak like that of your sister and of me only proves exactly how weary you have let yourself become. You have done an exemplary job treating his lordship, but now it is time to stand aside for Mrs. Patton.”
    Tears stung her eyes, more proof, really, of how very tired she was. She didn’t bother with her handkerchief, dashing the heel of her hand at the corners of her eyes.
    “But I promised his lordship I would stay with him,” she said. “I promised I’d be here if he needed me.”
    Papa sighed. “Gus, the poor man likely won’t recall having so much as met you, let alone what you promised him.”
    It was true, all true. Just because she wouldn’t forget him didn’t mean he’d feel the same. She’d held the hands of many people through their suffering, and while a comfort at the time, it seldom amounted to anything of lasting substance. It wouldn’t now, either. She swallowed hard and blindly gathered up her knitting, tightly wrapping the half-knit stocking around her needles and wool.
    Misreading her silence as acquiescence, Papa greeted the nurse with hearty relief. “Ah, here’s Mrs. Patton. You’ve nothing more to concern yourself with, Gus. Everything here will be looked after.”
    Mrs. Patton curtseyed