Raven's Ransom Read Online Free PDF Page B

beaming at him with starlit eyes.
    “Our direction is ...”
    “Daisy!” Primrose looked shocked. “Have you no decorum? You are worse than Lady!”
    “She is quite right, you know.” The cutpurse put his finger to Daisy’s protesting lips. “It would never do to divulge such secrets! You have no idea that you can trust me. Indeed, I hardly know whether I can trust myself. This last was directed apologetically at Primrose. She stared at him hard, then smiled, a sudden softening pity entering into her expressive eyes.
    “Doubtless our paths shall cross again, Barnacle Jack!” She stressed his name slightly satirically, causing his lips to twitch appreciatively.
    “Ah.” He grinned as he realized he was being given tacit permission to seek them out if he could.
    “May we recompense you for the meal and the mail charges?”
    Dark eyes flashed scornfully. “Do you seek to insult me?”
    “Felons are not notoriously plump in the pocket.”
    “Oh!” He was reminded of his ridiculous role. “I prigged two prodigiously fat purses only this morning. I shall be rich, therefore, at least until sunrise tomorrow. Go, whilst the rain has stopped. Tell your man I have handed the bays over to the inn’s ostler. He will await your convenience.”
    Daisy smiled. “You are thoughtful! Not at all what I would expect from . . . from . . .” She blushed, for she hesitated to call him a common thief.
    Lord Valmont’s eyes darkened disgracefully. Then, without warning, he whisked the bemused young lady off her feet and kissed her with practiced ease. When he released her, Daisy’s head was spinning and she looked quite liable to swoon.
    “You are more than a rogue, sir! Look what you have done!” Primrose clicked her tongue crossly.
    He grinned. “It would have been such a shame to disappoint her.” He pushed one of Daisy’s amber gold ringlets aside and addressed her in thrilling tones. “You see, Miss Chartley, I am a villain!” Whereupon he kissed her fingers—they had somehow or other got themselves ungloved—winked at Primrose, and strode from the room without a further word.
     
     
    The house, when the sisters returned to it, was in an uproar. The first thing they noticed, as they hurried upstairs to change their rain-soaked garments, was that there were posies all about the place, large bouquets sending heavenly fragrances in all directions. Daisy stopped to smell a few, and to call for some larger vases. Flowers were her passion and she could not bear to see them crammed stiffly in ornamental bouquets.
    It was Primrose, then, ascending the stairs, who almost collided with a striking-looking Lily in a walking dress of smart military style.
    “Primrose, I shall never forgive you for adventuring without me, but you shall not believe the excitements we have had today! Lord Holden, Lord Witherspoon, Captain Stanley, and Sir Lancelot Danvers all left cards; Mr. Stanridge has been composing sonnets—quite horrible, really, but still they celebrate my eyes so I cannot help liking them just a smidgen—and we have had two proposals of marriage!” On this dramatic note, she clasped her hands in glee and awaited, breathless, her sister’s response.
    It was indulgent. She kissed Lily’s forehead and brushed away some of the dark, silk strands that had escaped their rather grown-up topknot.
    “Gracious, Lily, you quite overshadow all our tame adventures! And who, may I ask, is we?”
    “We?” Lily looked puzzled.
    The elder Miss Chartley endeavored to be patient, not too hard a task, for she loved Lily dearly, despite a robust innocence coupled with a hearty narcissistic streak that bordered, at times, on conceit. But then, she was so lovely! She had sumptuous dark hair that, when loosened from the topknot, fell about her shoulders and almost down to her waist in a positively abundant display of shining luster. Her eyes were sultry, a deep green that whispered of promises and was bordered by long, ebony lashes with