How a Lady Weds a Rogue Read Online Free PDF Page A

intrepid of you.”
    “Truly. I have done all sorts of wicked things in my life, things that made my governesses weep and pull out their hair, although not literally of course, except that once but really that was an accident. In any case, I have been troublesome, but I have never stolen anything. But she is my mother, and Papa will say nothing and frankly I am entitled to know something of her, don’t you agree?”
    “You must wish it quite sincerely.”
    “That was not an answer to my question, of course. I am not a hair-for-brains, Mr. Yale.”
    “I would never say so.”
    “And I didn’t actually steal the letters. I only read them.” Her slender brows cocked and a mischievous gleam flickered in the blue. “So I haven’t sinned. Really.”
    The abrupt image of her actually sinning compelled him to reach for his glass again. “Where then is your mother?”
    She set down her fork and a sweet smile slipped across her lips. “You are so refreshing to speak with, Mr. Yale. Papa never seems to know what I’m talking about and Mr. H allows me to go on and on without responding. But you are different. You seem to know .”
    Yes. He knew it would be to his advantage to put this girl on a northbound coach and wipe his hands of her as soon as possible. The innkeeper appeared by their table, saving Wyn from being obliged to willfully remove his attention once again from her pretty neck.
    “My best two chambers are ready upstairs for you and your sister, sir, when you wish. Will you be taking supper, then?”
    “Bring him the roast. He will be in heaven.” She closed her berry lips around another forkful.
    Wyn dragged his gaze away and stood. “My sister would like to retire directly. She is fatigued after the day’s travel.”
    “But you really must eat some—”
    “I will take supper in my room.” He gestured her toward the stairs.
    Upon the landing the innkeeper proffered him two keys. “This is for the lady’s, sir, and this one is for yours there. I’ll have the maid pop in to assist the lady now, and I’ll send your supper up right straight.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Do thank your wife for her delicious roast and pudding, please, sir.” Her smile sparkled.
    The innkeeper beamed. “I’ll do that, miss.”
    She watched after him down the hall. “I suppose it was a good idea for you to tell him I am your sister. But anyone can see we look nothing like one another.” She met his gaze, her blue eyes clean and clear and without guile.
    It was true. They were nothing alike, but far beyond the accidents of hair and features. She claimed to be wicked, but her face radiated honesty and goodwill. Her behavior mirrored it—taking the crying infant upon her lap for the afternoon’s journey, and offering liberal praise for a simple meal. How a mother could leave such a daughter upon the threshold of womanhood, he hadn’t an idea.
    “Where is your mother, Miss Lucas?”
    “Calais.”
    Intrepid, indeed. “You intend to cross the Channel after her?”
    “Yes. She seems to be living with a dozen or so young women. She would have my father believe they are Catholic nuns and that she needs money to help them do handicrafts to sell at the market, which is why she wrote to him. But I am not so naïve as all that. I think she is running a school.”
    He measured his response. “A school?”
    Her lips twisted. “No. I said that to see how you would react, and I am really quite impressed. Of course I shouldn’t know about such things, but Teresa Finch-Freeworth is very helpful.” She smiled, gently now. “But you would never reveal your shock over my impropriety. You are a true gentleman, Mr. Yale.”
    “Why hasn’t your stepfather gone after her?”
    “Because he does not care for her.” Her gaze skittered away.
    It was inconvenient. She was inconvenient, a pretty bundle of good intentions and old hurt, the latter which he could see quite plainly in her wide eyes no matter what she claimed. And now she had