Again, My Lord: A Twist Series Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

slowed instantly, drawing his mount to a halt and sliding out of the saddle. He tossed the reins to a stable boy holding the marquess’s horse.
    “Damn and blast, Dare,” he exclaimed upon laughter. “I would’ve had you if it hadn’t been for that coach blocking that last bend.” He took them all in. “Good Lord, have you run someone over?”
    Calista grasped her son’s slippery hand. “Come now, Harry. We must dry you off before you depart.” She drew him back into the inn as he craned his neck.
    Evelina stood in the doorway. “It’s
him
.”
    “Who?” Harry said.
    Calista glared at her sister. “No one.” Going to her sodden knees in the foyer she dusted raindrops from her son’s coat, and removed his hat and shook it out.
    “But, Mama—”
    “Harry,” she said firmly.
    Her son’s lips shut tight. “Yes, Mama.”
    Her heart twisted anew. Despite the Chance spirit he’d been born with, he had learned to be docile from necessity.
    Ignoring every lesson about stalwart strength in the face of adversity that she had taught her son over the past five years, she wrapped her arms around him again and pressed her face into the crook of his shoulder.
    “I will miss you, my darling,” she whispered fiercely.
    “I’ll miss you too, Mama.”
    She drew away. “Now, listen to your aunt and Grandmama this month.”
    “And to Cook,” he said.
    “Yes, and to Cook, so she will bake your favorite biscuits and allow you to taste the bread as soon as it is out of the oven,” she repeated the comforting words she had been telling him the entire journey to this tiny inn in this little village where Richard had instructed her to leave him in her sister’s care. She looked into his sober face that had never resembled her husband’s, rather featured the Chance black hair, blue eyes, and defiant chin. Harry would be better off at Dashbourne than at home, free to be a boy. It was she who would hate every day of this month apart. She stroked his cheek, then stood.
    Lord Dare filled the inn doorway, his coat dripping, knees and boots muddy, and face inscrutable. A scar now cut across his jaw, lending an air of danger to his male beauty.
    “My lord,” she bit through tight lips.
    His attention shifted to Harry at her hip.
    “Do you
know
him, Mama?” her son whispered in the comically voluble whisper of the young.
    She reached down and clasped his little fingers. “He is Lord Dare. Bow to him now, darling.”
    Harry cut a neat little bow, his eyes remaining wide.
    “Why doesn’t he come in out of the rain?” His whisper filled the foyer.
    “Because he is a peculiar man,” she said. “Peculiar men who are very wealthy do anything they want.”
    “Even stand in the rain?” Harry asked skeptically.
    “You should see me when it snows,” Lord Dare said, and stepped into the foyer. His voice was as deep and velvety as it had been years ago. Adorned with a caped greatcoat and tall crowned hat, his presence dominated the small space. Were he atop a mountain, Calista thought, he would still seem to command the peaks with his quiet authority and stormy eyes. How a man of so few words could radiate such strength, she hadn’t understood six years ago. Her father had ranted and shouted to make everybody cower. But confidence rolled from the Marquess of Dare’s shoulders and hard, scarred jaw. He needn’t rant or shout. He knew he would not be questioned.
    She tightened her fingers around her son’s. “Come now, Harry. You and Aunt Evelina must be on your way.”
    “But Lord Dare is all wet, with no one to dry him off. Won’t he take a sniffle, Mama?” Harry said, looking up at the marquess.
    “I’m sure he would not allow a sniffle anywhere near him.”
    “I don’t know about that.” His companion pushed past him into the foyer. “I’ve even seen him sneeze on occasion. All the great men are doing it nowadays.” He winked at Harry, whose eyes went wide.
    “My lady,” Lord Dare said, “May I present