Lois Greiman Read Online Free PDF

boldness necessary,” she said, daring to disagree yet again. “There is little reason to be untrue, since I’m certain you are not threatened by his ilk.”
    “Are you? And why is that?”
    The room went silent. “Because you are the master,” she said.
    The answer seemed to please him, for there was a smile in his voice when next he spoke. “But who is he, do you suppose?”
    “Him?” Her voice was soft, dismissive. “He looks very much like nobody to me.”
    “Then ’ow’d ’e get them trousers?” Oxford asked.
    “Perhaps the same place you got yours,” she said. “From the last man he stabbed in the back.”
    Oxford made some indistinguishable sound, but Poke ignored him. “So you believe he’s a thief, my love?”
    “Peter found him in Tayside. Why would a man bethere in the small hours of the night if he could afford to be elsewhere?”
    “But remember, my love, I could be elsewhere.”
    “But once again,” she said, “you are Poke. And he is not.”
    “So you think he is one of our own,” he said, and seated himself on the mattress. Will could feel the heat of his body against his thigh. Could smell the cheroot. Mahogany blend. His favorite, he thought, and felt again the spur of surprise as wispy memories swirled through his mind with sleepy slowness.
    “Certainly,” she said.
    “And what else do your fair instincts tell you, my lady?”
    Reaching down, she picked up Will’s hand in both of hers. He nearly started at the touch, but instincts warned him to remain still. Her skin felt cool and smooth against his. “He’s had some education, but he’s fallen on hard times.”
    “How can you tell?”
    “His hands are not sufficiently callused for hard labor. But the nails are dirty, the cuticles rough.”
    “Still a ladies’ maid at heart?” Poke asked.
    “I was never a maid,” she countered. “Not at heart.”
    He chuckled again. “So he is an educated man. Perhaps a clerk or a merchant who could no longer hold his job?”
    A clerk? No. Surely not.
    “Perhaps.”
    “Or possibly a gambler.”
    He waited, but she didn’t respond.
    “What say you, my lady? Is our shabby guest a gambling man?”
    “I would not know.”
    “Then what do you know, my love?”
    She was silent for a moment. Once again, he could feel her gaze on his face for a prolonged moment, then she spoke. “I know he’s awake.”
    Shock speared through Will, almost prompting him to open his eyes.
    “Truly?” There was surprise in Poke’s voice for the first time. “He’s conscious?”
    “Yes.”
    “And not entering into the conversation?”
    “Not as of yet.”
    “That seems rather ill-mannered, wouldn’t you say?”
    “Some thieves are.”
    “Present company excluded of course.”
    She said nothing.
    “Sir, are you awake?” Poke asked, and nudged Will’s hip with an elbow.
    Possibilities stormed through Will’s battered mind. What now? Admit the sham or remain as he was?
    “Well,” said Poke, “either you are entirely wrong, or our damaged guest is being duplicitous. Which do you think it is, Princess?”
    “I am certain you shall find out.”
    Laughter again, but there was a raw edge of excitement to it now. “You’re right, of course. But how?”
    The room went absolutely silent.
    “What of this plan? If you are correct and our friend opens his eyes in the next few seconds I shall allow you to keep the entirety of what you brought in today. But if you are wrong…” He rose to his feet. Evil crowded in, as palpable as a chill wind. “Then you shall wear the brand of my cheroot upon your palm.”
    The shock of his words hit Will’s mind like a blow, stunning on impact.
    “No!” Gem rasped.
    “You have something to say, Gemini?”
    “You can’t…” She paused. “You don’t want to ruin ’er hands, Master Poke. She won’t be no good to us that way.”
    “Ahh, a fine point, lass. Where would you like to bear the brand, my lady?”
    Silence, as deep as the night, then,