My Lady Mischief Read Online Free PDF

attraction. At least he knew her name, Thea, and that she was not indifferent to him. Her kiss had been pure heaven. Surely it was just a matter of time before he could claim her as his own. He'd have to request Hobbs to look into introducing him to Thea's father.
    The back of his neck prickled. Turning, he looked to his left. From the corner of his eye, he thought he'd seen a curly white wig perched atop the features of a pig. Surely not.
    He shook his head to clear his vision but kept his eyes on the doorway. Just then Mack, Paul McCormack, came around the corner. Hart blinked a few times, then asked, "Did you just see a—? No. Never mind."
    Resolved to relegate Thea and the phantom pig to the back of his mind, he smiled warmly at his American friend. "Good news, Mack. Lord Steyne has expressed interest in your drill improvements. His purchase of the process should serve you well."
    Mack clapped him on the back. "It is very good of you to go to so much trouble for me."
    "You've never failed me. What reason would there be for me to fail you now?" Hart felt uncomfortable with Mack's expressions of gratitude, for what were friends for, if not to aid one another? "Shall we seek out our host?"
    *
    Thea was infuriated with herself and most particularly infuriated by Lord Hartingfield. Primarily, she couldn't believe she'd acted in such a brazen manner. At one touch of his lips, she'd nearly swooned into his arms. The cad hadn't even been offering marriage as she'd thought, he'd offered to make her his mistress! At least she was safe from him and from herself here in her room.
    After returning to her suite, she'd quickly discarded the costume that had influenced her to act in such an unladylike manner. A footman had delivered her dinner but she'd been unable to eat more than a bite or two.
    Now she paced, back and forth, back and forth. Surely Lord Hartingfield knew he offered her, the daughter of an earl, an insult? He'd obviously overheard their conversation. She threw up her hands. Men.
    That's why Charles was so perfect for her. He never behaved in an unexpected manner, he hadn't even attempted to kiss her. For the first time, she wondered why. Heavens, he did find her attractive, didn't he?
    She hoped he didn't sense what she hadn't realized until tonight, that she was a libertine in fine clothing. Sinking onto her bed, she chewed her thumbnail, hoping Miss Mimms wouldn't notice, for she'd spent the entire previous summer helping her overcome this dreadful habit.
    It was possible Lord Hartingfield had offered her the insult deliberately, in an attempt to make her grateful for a legitimate offer of wedlock. He didn't know his woman if he thought such ploys would work with her.
    Thea jumped up and resumed her pacing, more determined that ever to put the arrogant marquess in his place.
    *
    When the next day dawned bright and clear, Thea resolved to put yesterday's calamities behind her by proceeding with her normal schedule. Accordingly, she'd gone to the kitchens and stood in conversation with the cook at Steyne Hall, Mrs. Smith. Things were not progressing as she'd hoped.
    "Oh, please, Mrs. Smith. Papa must never find out about Uncle Egbert." She stooped to place a squirming piglet in her basket on the table. The aroma of freshly baked bread gave added appeal and a sense of security to the well-organized kitchen.
    "You just make sure to keep that animal out of my kitchen, Missy. I am that busy, with guests in the house, I'd as lief not interrupt my schedule for a visit with his lordship." Mrs. Smith had ruled the pantry since long before Thea's birth. She'd administered cookies and hugs to her, and instigated the only discipline she'd ever known.
    Thea threw her arms around the matronly woman. "Thank you, Mrs. Smith." The piglet and basket almost went flying. Releasing the cook, she steadied her basket. "I knew I could depend upon you. Should Papa discover I adopted one of his prize piglets, I'm certain he'd have apoplexy."