Barbara Metzger Read Online Free PDF

shall leave, and you’ll really be in the suds.” It was a silly threat; he could no more leave now than he could fly. He was already thinking ahead to what difficulties such a madcap might be in, to resort to kidnapping, and what strings he could pull to extricate her. First, however, what was such a little charmer doing in britches—he was trying not to stare—in a workman’s cottage? “Now, ma’am, if you please,” he ordered, severe with concern.
    That voice had commanded whole battalions. Jacey started. “You see, my lord, Squire, your uncle, that is—and I’m sorry for that, not that he’s your uncle, of course, else you’d not be here, but that it’s your uncle that I’m referring to. Does that make sense?” Jacelyn was unaccountably flustered by her companion’s look of disapproval. “Squire arrested Pen, and I kidnapped you in exchange,” she hurried on, not choosing to discuss the reasons behind Squire’s actions. “He will release Pen, I will, ah, let you go. You’ll go on to the house party, I’ll return home. Simple.”
    Her explanation wasn’t simple, it was simple-minded, telling him nothing he didn’t previously know except the other prisoner’s name. If this friend were a man, if this were all to free her lover… “Who is Pen, and what are the charges?” he demanded.
    Jacey shrank back in her seat. “There were no charges, Arthur. Squire arrested Pen so I wouldn’t interfere with his fox hunt and…and Pen is my dog, Penelope.”
    “A dog? Squire, er, Uncle, arrested your dog?” Leigh had to laugh, partly at the idea, but mostly in relief that a convict lover didn’t wait in gaol for her. He poured another glass of wine, then it struck him as even funnier. “You are actually holding me hostage to ransom a dog? My dear, what a blow to my pride! I’ll have you know I was once traded for three French prisoners of war, two officers and a spy; our esteemed government thought I was that valuable. Three Frenchmen, one dog. How the mighty are fallen.”
    Jacelyn laughed with him. “But she’s a very special dog, my lord. She’s named for Ulysses’ wife, you know, and she is every bit as faithful and wise.”
    “Wasn’t Ulysses’ dog named Argos? Why didn’t you name your dog after him?”
    “Argos died when his master finally came home. It was too sad.”
    “What a curious mix you are, Miss Trevaine. Swaggering highwayman one moment, sentimental schoolgirl the next. I don’t even want to go into the fox-hunting reference. I’m not quite ready for that yet. Tell me about your grandfather.”
    “Oh, he’s our gardener, Shoop. I thought you would remember him for sure. He shouted at you for practicing your cricket in the formal gardens.”
    “Did he? Will he find himself up on charges over this nonsense, or dismissed from his position?”
    “Oh no. Squire only blames Papa. He’ll turn all red and rage at my poor father to do something about me.”
    “And will he? Your father, I mean. You’d ought to be spanked, girl, for what I’m beginning to suspect is a long history of thoroughly disreputable behaviour. It’s too much to hope, I’m sure, at this late date.”
    Jacelyn laughed at the idea of her dear sweet father even raising his voice in anger, much less his hand. “Papa is a scholar, remember?”
    “Well, someone had ought to tan your sweet britches over this escapade, pet, for you’ve landed us both in the briars this time.”
    “You haven’t changed so much, after all, Arthur. You always were a spoilsport. Too bad, I was beginning to like you. What, are you afraid of what Squire will say?”
    “Aye, girl, Squire and the whole countryside, likely. Here you are in the middle of the night, in an isolated little cottage, improperly attired, alone with a man. Didn’t you even think of your reputation?”
    Jacelyn threw back her head and laughed, a sound which nearly melted the earl’s heart for good and all. “But I don’t have any reputation to speak