Lady Rogue Read Online Free PDF Page A

voice that couldn't be practiced.  She was telling the truth.  "I swear it, Sir .  I didn't." 
    The answering silence was unnerving.  Why didn't he say something?  Anything.  By now any other gentleman would have peached, that was for sure.  And yet he hadn't.  She looked up through her fringe of dark lashes at him, taking in his broad shoulders again, the elegant cut to his dark blue coat.  Though he was a toff , he didn't seem a bad sort when all was said and done.  In fact, he seemed a bit of a noble bloke.  So far he hadn't even called a beadle.
    "Another un filched it, he did."  She failed to mention the close relationship of the scoundrel.   Handsome he might be but obviously he was also gullible, easier to fool than she could have ever suspected.
    "Someone else stole it...."   There was just a trace of a  mocking smile to the gentleman's lips.  "It just fell into your hands, is that wh at you would have me believe?"
    "Yes …...yes."   'Ats 'ow it 'appened, it did."  She  answered his smile, the corners of her mouth trembling.   "Fell into me  'ands."
    "Interesting.  Care to tell me the details?"  His voice was  husky with a tone of anger as he moved closer. It was clear that he didn't believe her as he climbed into the carriage and pulled her up on the seat beside him.  The door closed with a clank, and a shiver of alarm ran down Dawn’s back.  She was a mouse, trapped by an unrelenting cat.  He was  not gullible as she had so foolishly supposed.  He knew exactly what she had done.  Even now he watched and waited for her to confess. 
    "Well-l-l ?" Dawn felt the strength of his hand on her shoulder. His hard fingers exerted a pressure.  She would never escape.  A quivering tension coiled in her stomach.  She had to convince him of her innocence somehow or all was lost.
    Burying her face in her hand and pretending to give in to tears, she wailed,  "Ooh, it was terrible it was.  I nearly died o' fright."  Groping for his hand, she clutched it tightly, her fingers trembling.  "'E....e came wi' in an 'air's length of getting caught, 'e did.  It was then 'e...'e threw the purse at me ." She sniffed in feigned indignation.  "Tryin' ta cover 'is own taille, 'e was."
    "And you didn't steal it?"  His eyes were hot blue coals that seared her.
    "N o-o-o!  Oh, please believe me.  I'm a good girl, I am."  Peeking through her fingers she was overcome with relief.  It was working.  She could tell  by his expression that his sympathy had been tweaked.
    "Hmm ."   The gentleman's blue eyes narrowed as he stared at her speculatively.  She was so petite that he judged her to be still of tender years.  A homeless waif, he supposed, by the looks of her, but not a hardened criminal. Perhaps then her story was true.   He would give her the benefit of the doubt. 
    "'E ran for 'is life, leavin' me behind to answer for wot 'e done...." Clutching again at his hand , gazing into his eyes, she whispered. "Please 'elp me, Sir."
    The enormous green eyes with their long, thick dark lashes were his undoing.  She looked as guiltless as an angel.  How then could he refuse?  He wouldn't want to see the girl put into prison, especially if she had done no wrong.  Perhaps even if she had.  He was hardly one to judge another's sins or failings.  God knew he had enough of his own.
    "All right."  His thumb rubbed over the back of her hand in a strangely tender manner.  "I'll give you a ride back to your home.  That should get you there safely.  Will that do?"  He  held out his white cotton handkerchief to her.  "Now, blow yo ur nose and dry your eyes."
    As she took the offered cloth she noticed his hands.  Large.  Strong.  His hands confounded her.  The knuckles were scarred as if he'd been in several fights, belying his elegant attire. We ll, she wasn't going to ask.  She dabbed at her eyes, then looked in fascination at the initials so carefully embroidered on the cotton.  G. F. S.,