Lady Doctor Wyre Read Online Free PDF

waiting for the rest of his body to die.
    She sat at a plain wooden table sipping from a heavy cup much too big for her delicate hands. Candlelight glowed upon her face, soft yet regal and so damned beautiful she might have been a queen herself despite the plain, standard-issue furnishings which surrounded her. She couldn’t live lavishly and expect to avoid the gossipers, even though he knew she had enough coin to buy anything she wanted in York. She could buy the entire colony if she’d tap the funds he’d set aside for her. He knew she would have no qualms about using his blood money; no, it was her pride that objected.
    Even stripped of her title and House and position in Society, every fiber of her being screamed Her Grace . How she’d been able to keep her secret on Americus this long escaped him entirely, for he could see nothing but the grand Duchess sitting among peasants.
    “It’s no use,” he said in a low, deliberately Britannian drawl. “I see through your disguise.”
    She stiffened but didn’t jump from her chair or whirl to face him. Recognizing his voice did not eliminate the dire threat of his presence. That he’d managed to sneak up on her without any warning had shaken her, even though she tried to hide it by coolly reaching for the kettle. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
    As she refilled her cup, he noted that her hand trembled. In a way, it pained him that she could still fear him after all these years, but he had to admit that he appreciated that respectful alertness in her manner. It made them equals far beyond Society’s mores. But he couldn’t help but long for a welcoming smile or a heart-felt sigh of relief that he’d come at last—instead of narrowed suspicion that he’d simply decided it was past time to kill her.
    He sat across from her, the spot the other man had just vacated, and dipped a finger into the still-full cup of lukewarm tea. Slipping his finger into his mouth, he watched her reaction through veiled lashes. “Your guest likes a little tea with his sugar.”
    Her eyes flared wide and her hand fluttered up to wrap her fingers about the locket— his locket, the key to his heart and life. She flinched at the energy she must feel sparking inside that metal heart, yet until she’d touched it, she hadn’t noticed his approach. That told him more than any words that she’d already made her choice before he could ask the question. She’d been too distracted by this other man to notice the metallic firestorm brewing on her breast.
    She’ll never sail space with me.
    “You’re early, sir.” Her words rang in the small room and her nose tipped to a haughty angle. Lady Wyre made no excuses or pretended regrets, which was one of the reasons he admired her so much. That steely pride and determination would help her succeed in any endeavor, whether in surviving a reduced situation on a colony or the Queen’s wrath if she were dragged back to Londonium. “Is the device malfunctioning?”
    He, too, could play the privileged lord, although that would ill serve his intentions with her, for ladies of Britannia held all the power. Such an act would immediately put him in an inferior position. He chose instead to slip on the role of the gentlemanly assassin, the man who both repelled and attracted her.
    With a flick of his wrist, the slender blade hidden in his coat fell down into his palm. He cut a slice of bread from the untouched loaf between them. “Would you like a piece, Charlie?”
    Shaking her head, she eyed the blade like a poisonous serpent had uncoiled on her table, but she made no objection to the familiarity of her nickname.
    He smirked and kicked back in his chair, nibbling on the coarse bread. Without looking away from her face, he rolled the blade from finger to finger on his left hand as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “So what’s his name?”
    “Who?” The word came out as a croak, so she cleared her throat. Narrowing her gaze, she hardened