Malia Martin Read Online Free PDF Page A

spoonful against his full lips. Sara watched his throat work as he swallowed. Oh, what a lovely man.
    “You can get to your business soon enough.” He looked up at her. “Although you do seem a bit dirty. I detect beauty beneath the grime, but I did specifically ask for a clean girl.”
    Sara’s jaw dropped.
    “You’re going to catch some flies in your trap, girl. Sit and eat.”
    Her glorious pirate cook had turned into a mannerless pig. And she suspected that he might be a whoring, mannerless pig. “You asked for a clean girl? From whom and for what, sir?” she managed to ask.
    The man laid his spoon against the bowl with a clink and crossed his arms over his chest. Shoving himself back on two chair legs, he studied her with an amused smile. “From your employer and for your talents.”
    Sara studied the man’s coat and breeches for a moment, her mind finally registering the quality of their make. Her heart thumped in her chest and her stomach rolled a bit, but it all made sense suddenly. She nodded and shot the man a tight smile. “You are the Duke.”
    The man shrugged, his visage going a bit sour. “Do not let it bother you; I surely don’t.”
    “Obviously!” The nausea passed quickly, leaving in its place a fiery anger. “How dare you take so lightly such a position of responsibility! Do you realize how desperate the people of Rawlston are for your guidance? Have you even gone to inspect Rawlston since you inherited?” Sara whipped around, her grimy skirts swiping the table and sending her bowl of soup crashing against the wall. She did not stop, though, her breath churning in her lungs and her blood pumping furiously in her veins.
    “Of course you have not! And do you answermy letters? Do you even read them, I must ask?” She turned again to face him. “I cannot believe that you have. For surely, anyone with a human heart would have come to see what dire straits they have left their people in with no money, no hope, no duke at Rawlston Hall!”
    Silence rang in the large kitchen. Sara clutched her skirts in her fists, her chest heaving with the strength of her tirade.
    The Duke still leaned back in his chair, and he slowly dropped the front legs so they clunked against the ground. His dark brows lifted, making him look surprised and a bit too amused for her mood. “You are not a harlot, I take it?”
    “Oh!” Sara clenched her fists even harder, wishing desperately to throw something, preferably something heavy and preferably at the Duke’s head. “Of course that is who you were expecting! The Rogue of Rawlston gives his staff the night off so that he can entertain whores in his home. You would not want to let down all the gossip mongers of London who find your European escapades titillating. Of course, you think nothing of letting the people of Rawlston, your people, down.”
    Sara stopped and took a deep breath so she could continue. But the Duke furrowed his brow and said, “The Rogue of Rawlston?” He gave a small humorless laugh. “Do they truly call me that?” He grimaced.
    “Are you not listening to me?” Sara askeddesperately. “Are you not hearing me? Rawlston needs you. You cannot pretend forever that it is not there.”
    The Duke studied her in silence. His eyes roaming from her bedraggled hair to her torn slippers. “Since we have ruled out the possibility of you being a woman of the night, my next guess, from the passion of your tirade, is that you are the Duchess.” His brows furrowed and he stood. “I pictured you much older.” He walked around her as if studying her from all angles. “And cleaner.”
    Sara turned, keeping her back to the wall. “I am no spring chicken, your grace. I am four and thirty, and I am usually cleaner, but I have been in jail.”
    “Yes, I heard.”
    “Well, at least you have heard something! A rather shocking realization as I have spent the last ten months with nary a word from you.”
    The Duke leaned his hip against the table and