A Wicked Pursuit Read Online Free PDF

grandly to Papa and began to bustle importantly about the room with a show of efficiency, or so it seemed to Gus.
    “Come now, duck,” Papa said gently, once again taking Gus by the arm. “If there is any change in his lordship’s condition, I’ll be sure you are notified.”
    She stole one last glance at the unconscious earl, his elegantly chiseled profile and dark waving hair, his unshaven jaw and the way his lashes feathered over his closed eyes. She willed him to be well, to heal and recover. Then with her head bowed, she turned and left, and did not stop until she’d reached her own rooms.
    She was washing her hands and face when her lady’s maid, Mary, entered behind her.
    “Do you wish to bathe, Miss Augusta?” she asked, curtseying. “At this time of the morning, it won’t take long for them to fetch the hot water from the kitchen.”
    “Thank you, no,” Gus said, blotting her face dry. “I’m going to lie down for a bit, that’s all. I don’t wish to undress, but be ready when the London doctor arrives.”
    She sank onto the edge of the bed. She’d known she was tired, but until that moment she hadn’t realized how truly exhausted she was. She could scarcely keep her eyes open as she held up each foot for Mary to unbuckle her shoes.
    “Begging pardon, miss,” Mary said with unabashed disapproval, “but there’s leaves and muck on your petticoat from traipsing through the woods. Let me find you a clean one.”
    “Very well,” Gus said, standing just long enough for Mary to untie her petticoat and slip it over her underskirt. She sank back down onto the bed, drawing her feet up to curl on her side.
    “At least permit me to untie your pocket, miss,” Mary said as she brought a light quilt to cover Gus. “You can’t rest properly with that heavy thing on your side.”
    Gus wore an embroidered linen pocket tied around her waist as every woman did, but while Julia’s contained little vanities like a pocket glass, rouge box, and comb, Gus’s was lumpy with practical things such as keys, a thimble, and a needle case. “It will be fine, Mary,” Gus mumbled, already half asleep as she shoved her pocket up on her hip. “I’m only going to lie down for a few minutes.”
    “Very well, Miss Augusta,” Mary said, drawing the quilt up over Gus. “Sleep well.”
    She gently closed the door, and with a sigh Gus burrowed her face into the pillow. As she settled, her pocket slipped from her hip and fell forward, and drowsily she shoved it back out of the way. Her fingers brushed over an unfamiliar lump in the pocket, and suddenly she was awake. She reached inside it and pulled out a small, hinged box, domed on the lid and covered in red leather.
    The box had fallen from Lord Hargreave’s clothes as the servants had carried him up the stairs, and at the time she’d tucked it away in her pocket for safekeeping. She’d forgotten about it until now, but as she saw it again in her palm, she’d no doubt what it was.
    She didn’t need to have Julia’s obsessive fascination with costly jewels to recognize a ring box when she saw one, and there was only one reason that the earl had been carrying a lady’s ring with him when he’d gone out riding with her sister. When Julia had returned home to Wetherby last week, she’d predicted gleefully that the earl would soon follow her, and when he did, he’d ask for her hand. Apparently she’d been right.
    Gus knew she shouldn’t open the box, that the ring inside was no affair of hers, and yet she could not help herself. Slowly—as if slowness would somehow mitigate the sin of peeking at something that wasn’t hers—she unfastened the little brass catch and opened the box.
    She gasped. She couldn’t help that, either. The ring was like an extravagant flower of diamonds, with one large stone centering a dozen smaller ones, flashing brilliantly in its velvet nest. She stared at it, turning it this way and that to catch the light, and wistfully imagined