Mayhem in Bath Read Online Free PDF

standstill outside of Lord Benjamin’s residence, and Dominic prepared to alight. Bodkin peered over the side of the boot. He’d seen the name Royal Crescent written on the first house in the curve and could hardly believe his luck that his unknowing transport had brought him to the very street he sought! The brownie gazed along the pavement, belatedly wishing he’d thought of asking Polly the number of Beddem’s residence. Nutmeg was in one of these houses, but which one?
    Suddenly the front door of the house by which the carriage had halted opened, and several footmen emerged to attend to the unloading of the luggage. Bodkin jumped hastily down with his bundle and the pumpkin, and bent low as he hurried to the unlit entrance of the property next door, and from there he watched as Dominic entered his house. As the last item of luggage was carried inside, and Jeffries drove the carriage around to the nearby mews, the brownie emerged from his doorway to consider what to do next. How was he going to find out which house it was? Inspiration struck almost immediately. All he had to do was find the mews and ascertain which coach house contained Hordwell’s carriage! The coach house would surely have the same number as the house to which it belonged! Yes, that was it. He swung his cumbersome belongings over his shoulder again and set off along the pavement. Soon he went around the large house at the beginning of the crescent, and then disappeared from view.
    It was very dark indeed when Polly’s carriage reached Bath and was obliged to take the same circuitous route to the crescent. At Lord Benjamin’s house, Polly paused apprehensively before alighting. Oh, how she was going to loathe the coming hours, for being anywhere near Lord Benjamin was always purgatory to her. He was a true scion of that long, long line of philanderers, clammy and lascivious, always eyeing her, whispering supposed compliments, and trying to brush against her as if by accident. If ever there was a prime example of the house of Beddem, it was he! She climbed reluctantly down to the pavement and braced herself for the ordeal ahead. The air was cold, and her breath was visible as she went up to the door to rap the gleaming brass knocker. She felt a little embarrassed, realizing that unescorted ladies who called at doors after dark were frequently not ladies at all, but at least her name would soon dispel any such unwelcome conclusions.
    After a moment a footman answered, but her name did not seem to convey anything at all. “Er, is Sir Dominic expecting you, madam?” he inquired.
    “Sir Who?” Polly was startled, and further dismayed to see that the footman’s livery was an unfamiliar green and gold.
    “Sir Dominic Fortune, madam. This is his residence.”
    She glanced hastily at the number painted in black beside the door. Yes, she was at the right address. “There must be a mistake, I—” She broke off on a gasp as she saw Dominic descending the staircase at the end of the entrance hall. He had changed out of his dirty clothes, and after a good hot bath now wore a long gray paisley dressing gown.
    He paused on realizing something was amiss at the door. “What is it?” he inquired.
    “A Miss Peach has called, sir.”
    Dominic approached reluctantly. He inclined his head to Polly, not recognizing her at first. “Sir Dominic Fortune, your servant, madam. May I be of some assistance?” he murmured.
    His eyes were a clear, steady gray; disconcertingly steady. She found herself blushing before their gaze, for she was again obliged to judge him the most handsome man ever. The intense feeling of attraction returned quite unnervingly, and she felt her pulse quicken with anticipation. Oh, this wouldn’t do! She forced herself to recall his manner earlier in the day. He might be handsome beyond belief, but he was also unpleasant!
    “Have we met?” he asked, beginning to realize he’d seen her somewhere before.
    “Er, no, sir, we haven’t. I...