Patrica Rice Read Online Free PDF Page A

look like a duchess.” He stepped back to admire his handiwork.
    “I am not a duchess. Will you please make the introductions?” Recovering her composure, Blanche nodded at the girl hiding behind him.
    “Lady Blanche, Fiona MacOwen, Catholic, Irish, and if I do not mistake, a lass in dire need of a protector. Shall we give her to Neville?”
    That would serve the damned duke right, but if Blanche read the excitement in Michael’s eyes correctly, the protector he had in mind was himself, curse his Robin Hood hide.

Four
    Not certain she hid her irritation well, Blanche gestured for Miss MacOwen to take a seat. She wished she could judge the girl’s age, but the cynical green eyes didn’t match the childishly smooth complexion, and the ill-fitting gown with the high, round neckline revealed nothing of her figure other than her lack of stature. She could be anywhere from fifteen to thirty.
    “Now, Miss MacOwen, perhaps you would tell Lady Blanche why you thought to make London on your own,” Michael suggested as he bounced on the balls of his feet. His restlessness seldom allowed him to alight anywhere. Blanche knew he shoved his fists in his pockets to keep from lifting the delicate bric-a-brac from the mantel and tossing it into the air. Since some of the figurines were a century old, she was grateful for his restraint.
    Miss MacOwen blinked her wide green eyes with deceptive innocence. “I wish to visit my aunt, my lady. I meant no trouble for you or anyone, but Mr. O’Toole insisted we come here first.”
    Blanche could see the lie in her eyes. She sent Michael a questioning glance. He shrugged his shoulders in reply. Her curiosity demanded satisfaction. “All right, Miss MacOwen, we will endeavor to see you safely to your aunt’s. London is no place for a lady on her own. Do you know your aunt’s direction?”
    Uncertainty flickered in Miss MacOwen’s eyes, but she answered firmly enough. “Elton Avenue, just off Half Moon Street, I believe. I’m certain I’ll have no difficulty finding it.”
    Blanche glanced at Michael for confirmation of her suspicions. Half Moon Street was in the Covent Garden area. It contained respectable enough houses, but some of the inhabitants were actresses from the theater, installed in the houses by their wealthy protectors. She had never heard of Elton Avenue, but if it led off Half Moon in the wrong direction, it could easily fall into the notorious slums of Seven Dials. Michael’s grim expression confirmed her fears.
    “Miss MacOwen, does your aunt expect your arrival?” Blanche asked carefully. No decent aunt would lure a child to the nefarious confines of Seven Dials.
    Miss MacOwen sat back in her chair, crossed her hands in her lap, and stared at Blanche defiantly. “That is unimportant. I must reach my aunt. If you cannot help me, I shall go on my own. I will happily reimburse your maid for the clothing as soon as I am able.”
    “That won’t be necessary. Lily only gave you a gown that didn’t look good on herself,” Blanche answered wryly. With relief, she noted amusement lighten the girl’s expression. Perhaps Miss MacOwen wasn’t too thick-headed to realize they meant no harm. “Of course we’ll help you. I’ll have my coach and driver take you to your aunt as soon as they return. I just sent them off with my cousin, so it might be a day or so. I hope that doesn’t matter.”
    Blanche watched the girl’s gaze dart nervously from her to Michael. Michael would know she lied. She owned carriages and horses aplenty. But the longer they kept Miss MacOwen here, the more time they had for investigating this “aunt” and ensuring the girl’s safety. Michael now hummed and tossed coins from his pockets into the air, apparently oblivious to their conversation.
    Miss MacOwen nodded reluctantly. “Sure, and time is of the essence, my lady, but if you think it best.”
    “You wouldn’t like walking all the way to London wearing boy’s clothes and arriving at