Dangerous Escapade Read Online Free PDF
Author: Hilary Gilman
astonishment.
“My good child,
there is no need for this agitation,” he said. “This is your home now.”
Kit felt all
the impossibility of explaining to his Lordship that the prospect of living in
this museum of a house was far from pleasing. However, as they passed through the
great hall and into a comfortable morning room, he began to feel very much more
cheerful. This apartment was situated in the only modern wing of the house, an addition
made by the late Earl at the request of his young bride on the occasion of
their marriage. It was in this wing, too, that apartments had been prepared for
the new inmate, who, when conducted thither by John, began to entertain hopes
of living a normal life in his new home after all.
He signified
his desire to be alone in order to wash and rest after their long ride.
“Dinner will
be served at six o'clock, Master Kit,” John informed him, “so you get a bit o'
sleep, and I'll come and waken you myself when it's time for you to dress.”
“Thank you,
John, I think I will take your advice,” answered Kit, smiling at the man. Left
alone, he explored his chamber thoroughly and was pleased to approve. Next, he
tried the bed and, finding it extremely comfortable, he stretched his slender
form upon it and, in a very few minutes, was sunk into a deep and dreamless sleep.
He awoke an hour
later to find John leaning over him, shaking him by the shoulder. Kit rubbed
his sleepy eyes, murmuring, “Is it time already? I am so tired.”
“No, Sir, but his
Lordship would like a word with you before dinner, so best hurry and dress
yourself now. His Lordship is waiting for you in the library.”
It occurred to
Master Clareville that John was looking more than usually wooden, but he
dismissed the thought with a shrug as he hastened to scramble into his best
black velvet suit and to drag a comb through his tangled curls. Outside his
apartment, he found a young footman waiting to conduct him into his Lordship's presence.
He favoured the youth with a friendly grin, which the footman, being new to the
establishment, so far forgot himself as to return. Kit went down to meet his
guardian, feeling that he had acquired at least one ally in this bewildering
new home.
Deserted by
his newfound friend at the library door, he knocked rather timidly and entered
the room, where stood a magnificent stranger in whom he recognized, with some
difficulty, Lord Debenham. Previously, Kit had only seen Debenham in his well-cut
riding gear, but now he saw his guardian dressed as befitted his great position.
He looked quite different and rather unapproachable. He wore a brocade coat in
midnight blue over small clothes of palest pearl grey satin. The black hair, heavily
powdered, was drawn into the nape of his neck with a jewelled riband.
Quantities of silver lace foamed at his throat and wrists, emphasizing every
graceful movement of his hands.
Kit gazed
open-mouthed upon this vision, causing the Earl to laugh rather ruefully: “Forgive
me, Kit. This formality is as unusual as it is unavoidable. I must leave
immediately for London to attend a reception to which I am bidden by my
betrothed. We do not make a habit of dining attired thus.”
Kit shut his
mouth and muttered an apology, annoyed with himself for displaying such
gaucherie. The Earl was smiling at him with a kindness he had not shown before.
All at once, his formidable guardian seemed approachable once more.
“Come, Kit. I
have some grave news for you.”
“About my
father?”
“I am afraid
so.” He took one of Kit's hands in a comforting clasp. “I am very sorry, Kit : I have just received word that your father caught a
virulent fever while in Newgate. He died yesterday; he was never brought to
trial.”
Kit did not
cry. He stood rigidly staring into the fire, his burning eyes reflecting the
dancing flames. His cheeks were as colourless as the lace at his throat, his
clenched knuckles white with tension as he fought to control his
“My good child,
there is no need for this agitation,” he said. “This is your home now.”
Kit felt all
the impossibility of explaining to his Lordship that the prospect of living in
this museum of a house was far from pleasing. However, as they passed through the
great hall and into a comfortable morning room, he began to feel very much more
cheerful. This apartment was situated in the only modern wing of the house, an addition
made by the late Earl at the request of his young bride on the occasion of
their marriage. It was in this wing, too, that apartments had been prepared for
the new inmate, who, when conducted thither by John, began to entertain hopes
of living a normal life in his new home after all.
He signified
his desire to be alone in order to wash and rest after their long ride.
“Dinner will
be served at six o'clock, Master Kit,” John informed him, “so you get a bit o'
sleep, and I'll come and waken you myself when it's time for you to dress.”
“Thank you,
John, I think I will take your advice,” answered Kit, smiling at the man. Left
alone, he explored his chamber thoroughly and was pleased to approve. Next, he
tried the bed and, finding it extremely comfortable, he stretched his slender
form upon it and, in a very few minutes, was sunk into a deep and dreamless sleep.
He awoke an hour
later to find John leaning over him, shaking him by the shoulder. Kit rubbed
his sleepy eyes, murmuring, “Is it time already? I am so tired.”
“No, Sir, but his
Lordship would like a word with you before dinner, so best hurry and dress
yourself now. His Lordship is waiting for you in the library.”
It occurred to
Master Clareville that John was looking more than usually wooden, but he
dismissed the thought with a shrug as he hastened to scramble into his best
black velvet suit and to drag a comb through his tangled curls. Outside his
apartment, he found a young footman waiting to conduct him into his Lordship's presence.
He favoured the youth with a friendly grin, which the footman, being new to the
establishment, so far forgot himself as to return. Kit went down to meet his
guardian, feeling that he had acquired at least one ally in this bewildering
new home.
Deserted by
his newfound friend at the library door, he knocked rather timidly and entered
the room, where stood a magnificent stranger in whom he recognized, with some
difficulty, Lord Debenham. Previously, Kit had only seen Debenham in his well-cut
riding gear, but now he saw his guardian dressed as befitted his great position.
He looked quite different and rather unapproachable. He wore a brocade coat in
midnight blue over small clothes of palest pearl grey satin. The black hair, heavily
powdered, was drawn into the nape of his neck with a jewelled riband.
Quantities of silver lace foamed at his throat and wrists, emphasizing every
graceful movement of his hands.
Kit gazed
open-mouthed upon this vision, causing the Earl to laugh rather ruefully: “Forgive
me, Kit. This formality is as unusual as it is unavoidable. I must leave
immediately for London to attend a reception to which I am bidden by my
betrothed. We do not make a habit of dining attired thus.”
Kit shut his
mouth and muttered an apology, annoyed with himself for displaying such
gaucherie. The Earl was smiling at him with a kindness he had not shown before.
All at once, his formidable guardian seemed approachable once more.
“Come, Kit. I
have some grave news for you.”
“About my
father?”
“I am afraid
so.” He took one of Kit's hands in a comforting clasp. “I am very sorry, Kit : I have just received word that your father caught a
virulent fever while in Newgate. He died yesterday; he was never brought to
trial.”
Kit did not
cry. He stood rigidly staring into the fire, his burning eyes reflecting the
dancing flames. His cheeks were as colourless as the lace at his throat, his
clenched knuckles white with tension as he fought to control his