Miss Mischief - A Regency Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

the very notion was enough to lift his spirits. His mother was right; he would have every opportunity to dwell on his lamentable future when he returned but for the time being he could immerse himself in the pleasures of thoughtless action.
    ‘I promise you that I will remain out of ditches, avoid highwaymen and write to you. I daresay I will be back before a letter reaches you, but I promise, just the same.’
    ‘Take your time,’ his mother recommended softly. ‘And forget about your problems along the way. There is a larger world out there, my son. Look at it with open eyes and perhaps those problems will not seem so insurmountable.’
    ‘What a wise woman you are,’ he said fondly, turning to give his parent a breathtaking hug.
    ‘I’m not sure about that,’ she said wryly, straightening her cap and eyeing him with mock severity. ‘Only stay out of trouble, my lad and remember you’re a gentleman if you please. I might wish that you had a valet -’
    ‘I cannot afford a valet.’
    ‘ – but I suppose you will do well enough by yourself.’
    ‘Which direction do you think I should head in?’ he said musingly.
    ‘That, my dearest son, is entirely up to you!’
     
     

 
    Chapter Two
     
     
     
    As it turned out, there was plenty of time for his letters to reach his family, as after nine weeks, he still hadn’t turned his mount’s nose for home. On the contrary, he had been enjoying his journey so much that he was currently in the county of Yorkshire, a place he’d had little reason to visit before but was quite glad to introduce himself to now.
    This far north there were still pockets of snow laying in dips and dells that the sun did not reach but by the beginning of April, spring had finally decided to put in a proper appearance and flowers seemed to have burst into life in every field and hedgerow, softening a landscape that was largely wild and untrammeled. Yorkshire, he could not help but feel, was a wonderful discovery.
    He had spent most nights in inns along the way, mostly respectable places where he could get a decent stable for his big roan gelding, Hermes. Once or twice, since the weather had improved he had found a dry barn to sleep in if nothing else had presented itself by evening, paying the farmer for his trouble and adding extra if he could obtain some food for his supper. All in all it had been a delightful nine weeks and he found that he was in no real hurry to return to the conundrum of what to do with himself. Whilst he wandered no decisions had to be made and there was something essentially liberating about going wherever he would, with nothing to do other than discover what was around the next bend in the road. His closest companion had been his horse and the two of them had definitely developed a bond over the past weeks and, if Hermes did consider much of Marcus’ conversation to be tedious at times, he was far too well bred to mention it.
    He had been contemplating a trip to York but had no real desire to immerse himself in a large town just yet. Instead he turned towards the sea and had been making his way steadily towards the coast for two days. A signpost had informed him that Driffield lay some way ahead and he supposed he might stop there if he hadn’t sighted water by nightfall. He knew he’d have to face the bustle of a large town sometime; he wanted several new shirts and a new pair of breeches would not go astray. Traveling for such a long time had not been kind to his meager wardrobe and he knew he would soon require other personal items he might not find in a smaller village. Driffield was a sensible, if unappealing, destination.
    Millie would love all this , he reflected, surveying the rolling expanse of downs that stretched out before him. He had been approaching a sizeable forest and it still lay ahead but before it was a vast sweep of open sky and a weald in shades of grey and green and brown. Such a wonderful vista felt wonderfully liberating and Marcus knew