Lady Be Good Read Online Free PDF Page A

that ribbon in an instant.
    “Quite the dragon,” Pete went on. “Catherine claimed that she got in the way of the work. I suspect what that means is that Mrs. Ogilvie insisted on theobservance of proprieties. At any rate, Catherine grew skilled in losing the poor woman.”
    Holding her breath, Lilah shifted onto her knees and eased forward. She would snatch up that bow.
    The client shifted, exposing the ribbon fully. Something in his bodily posture suggested a moment of surprise. He began to kneel.
    Her thoughts scrambled. No choice but to run for it. She could explode out from under the desk, make a dash for the service stair—
    The client’s hand closed on the ribbon. He ducked a little, bringing his face into view.
    Great ghosts. It was Viscount Palmer!
    He regarded her without any sign of surprise. His eyes were an impossible color, the shade of whisky held to the light.
    He gave her a fleeting, ironical smile. Then he plucked up the ribbon and lifted himself out of sight.
    “How embarrassing,” she heard him say. “To be caught carrying lovers’ tokens, like a schoolboy. I expect you recognize your sister’s hair ribbon.”
    For a dumb moment, the lie made no sense. She was waiting only for the addendum:
By the way, you’ve a woman beneath your desk
.
    But then Young Pete said, “Of course”—his overly jovial tone betraying that he was not quite comfortable with Palmer carrying tokens from his sister.
    Palmer continued, “As for the question at hand—we can’t force your sister to tolerate a chaperone. But the solution seems simple: supply her with company that doesn’t interfere. An assistant, say, to help with her work.”
    “I don’t think—”
    “Yes, it’s a splendid solution. One of the Everleigh Girls, perhaps? And may I say, I’m so glad that we had the chance to speak privately. As you’ve certainly gathered, it is my hope that by coming to know her better, I might also persuade Miss Everleigh to look upon me more . . . tenderly.”
    Pete exhaled. “Yes! Yes, indeed. That is my hope as well.” Their footsteps moved away. “An assistant will serve,” Pete decided.
    The door shut.
    For a moment longer, Lilah remained frozen. For what possible reason would a stranger—much less
Viscount Palmer
—protect her?
    She crawled out from under the desk. Her legs shook so violently that it required both hands on the desktop to pull herself to her feet. She stared at the door, which—miracle of miracles—remained shut. Palmer had not yet told Pete about her.
    Her relief felt fragile, tainted by confusion. Or foreboding. She hobbled toward the door, wincing at the hundred small complaints of her knees and hips, and the giant, throbbing complaint from the vicinity of her rib cage. With one hand on the doorknob, she pressed her ear to the keyhole and listened.
    No voices.
    She opened the door and stepped into the hallway. It was empty.
    Did she truly owe her escape to Christian Stratton? Kit of “Kit’s Charge,” the famous poem that commemorated British bravery overseas? How Fiona would have squealed!
    A hysterical giggle bubbled up. One hand over her mouth, she started down the hall. With each step, theunlikely seemed more credible. She’d gotten away with it. She’d been saved by a war hero. Better not to ask the reason. The music was growing louder; the letters were tucked safely in her pocket.
She was safe
.
    Her relief made her giddy. She allowed herself a laugh, a short and exultant sound that broke into a gasp as a hand caught her elbow.
    Lord Palmer stepped out from between two statues. “How awkward,” he said pleasantly. “I forgot to ask your name.”
    The thief had marvelous composure. The first second, her panic showed plainly. It drained the blood from her face, exposing the artful blending of rouge that had lent her cheeks such fresh color. Her new pallor revealed freckles—a great many of them, long faded.
    In the next moment, as though a switch had been flipped, roses