My Lord Hercules Read Online Free PDF Page A

Humor laced his voice,
blast him.
    “ No,” she returned tartly.
“Last night was my first hell.”
    “ And what would make you
brave such a place in disguise, all alone?”
    Miranda shook her head. “I don’t owe
you an explanation, my lord.”
    His arm along the back of the seat
brushed against her shoulders as his hand settled on her arm.
“Whatever excitement you’re searching for, I’m certain I can
provide it for you, whether it’s driving my phaeton or…something
else. There’s no need to put yourself in a dangerous spot
again.”
    “ I’m not looking for danger
or excitement, Lord Harrison.” Just answers. Just the truth about
her Tessie. And she would go wherever that mission took her, no
matter how dangerous.
    Before he could reply, a pretty blonde
waved her arm in the air. “Good afternoon, Lord
Harrison!”

    Harry dragged his eyes from Miranda’s
slender neck to focus on Alice, Countess of Gifford, in a curricle
alongside her husband. He took the reins from Miranda and drew the
phaeton to a stop. “My lady, how nice to see you. It’s been an
age.”
    Alice’s gaze swept from Harry to
Miranda and back. “You would see me more regularly if you spent
more of your time in polite society. You’re as bad as Wood these
days.”
    Harry couldn’t help but laugh. Alice
never did mince words. It was probably the reason she was his
favorite of all of Pippa’s friends. “Certainly, I’m not all that
bad. I’ll even be at Pippa’s ball tomorrow.”
    “ Always the devoted
brother,” Alice returned without heat. In fact, she smiled sadly
and Harry could almost read her thoughts. If only Woodsworth had
been a better brother to his sisters, they wouldn’t have found
themselves in such perilous positions over the years.
    Was Marston a devoted brother, or a
neglectful one? Would he care that Miranda had put herself in
danger the night before, or would he wave the thought away as
nonchalantly as Woodsworth would have? For some reason, Harry was
desperate to know the answer, desperate to make sure that Miranda
was well cared for. Simeon Bartlett was known for his bravery, for
his honor. Had he survived the brutal attack from footpads less
than a year ago, Harry had no doubt that Miranda would not be
entering hells on her own. But her oldest brother hadn’t survived,
and that loss was still felt throughout London. It had to be felt
even more so in the Bartlett home. Poor Miranda.
    “ Are you going to introduce
us?” Alice asked, her brown eyes wide in question.
    Subtlety had never been her strong
suit. Harry grinned at the couple as he squeezed his little minx’s
shoulder. “Miss Miranda, this is the Earl and Countess of Gifford.
Giff, Alice, this is Miss Miranda Bartlett.”
    “ A pleasure,” Miranda
murmured so softly, no one would ever believe she was the same
brazen chit who’d dressed like a fop in order to gain entrance into
Gioco’s the previous night.
    “ The pleasure is ours, Miss
Miranda.” Gifford then turned his all-knowing gaze to Harry.
“Actually, Woodsworth said he saw you last night,
Casemore.”
    Miranda stiffened at Harry’s
side. Was she worried that someone had recognized her at Gioco’s?
Perhaps a healthy dose of fear would keep her from doing something
equally foolish in the future. “He took my seat at a vingt-et-un table as I
was on my way out.”
    “ That’s not the part he
mentioned,” the earl continued.
    No, Wood probably mentioned the
dark-haired girl tossed over Harry’s shoulder, not that Gifford
would ever broach that bit of gossip in front of the ladies. “You
know Woodsworth. Prone to dramatics from time to time.”
    Clearly, Gifford didn’t believe him,
but he was gentlemanly enough not to say as much.
    Harry tipped his head in farewell to
the Giffords. “Well, until tomorrow night.” Then he urged his bays
forward down the path. Once they were out of earshot, Harry nudged
Miranda with his arm. “Don’t worry, my dear. I won’t ever tell
anyone