Rogue's Honor Read Online Free PDF Page A

nodded, accepting his glib explanation.
As she was playing the part of a numbwit, she could not very well
ask why he remained in such a neighborhood when he clearly had the
resources to leave it. Obviously there was more to Mr. St. Clair
than met the eye, as she had suspected from the moment he first
spoke to her.
    "It's—very nice," she said inadequately. "May
I sit down?"
    Immediately he was full of concern. "Of
course! I'd forgotten how exhausted you must be. Here, this is the
most comfortable chair. I'll stir up the coals in the grate, and
you'll be warm in no time."
    Pearl sat, noticing with some irritation that
she was indeed tired and a bit sore from their recent exertion. She
must make more of an effort to get regular exercise while in Town,
or she would end up running to fat. In the country she at least
rode regularly.
    "Purdy? Miss?"
    Abruptly, she realized she had not heard his
question. "I . . . I beg your pardon?"
    Again speaking slowly, he repeated, "I was
asking whether you would like a glass of wine to fortify you. That
and ale are all I have at hand, I'm afraid, though I can go out to
bring something else back, if you'd prefer it."
    "Wine, thank you," she said hastily,
unwilling to be left alone here. Though why she should feel safer
with him than without him, she wasn't quite sure.
    The little dog, Argos—whose very name implied
its master had a classical education—came to lie next to her, its
head on her foot, while he went to the sideboard to fill two
glasses. She took the one he handed her and sipped. Again she had
to restrain herself from exclaiming, though her brows rose. How had
this apparently lowly servant developed such expensive tastes?
    "Will . . . won't you be missed at the
Mountheath's?" she asked, in an indirect attempt to obtain an
answer—and to hear his voice again.
    "I doubt it," he replied. "I was only hired
on for the evening, as you were. I'm . . . between positions at the
moment myself, as it happens."
    Whether he intended it or not, his words
reminded her that she had secrets of her own to keep, and therefore
would be advised not to probe into his. "How long should we wait,
do you think, before going back to look for Hettie?"
    He thought for a moment. "How would this
serve? You wait here, and I'll go back there now and take a look
about. If you can describe her to me, I'll endeavor to have a quiet
word with her and let her know where you are. I'll even bring her
here myself, if she can get away."
    Haltingly, mindful of her ruse, Pearl
described her maid. "This is very kind of you," she concluded.
Though she still felt nervous about staying alone in Seven Dials,
even in this sumptuous apartment, he had offered her the perfect
solution. As far as she knew, no one had seen them leaving
together.
    Again he gave her that odd half-smile, and
again she was startled by her visceral response to it. "Kindness
isn't so difficult, when the object is worthy. There is bread and
cheese in the sideboard, should you feel hungry. I should be back
in an hour or so—with Hettie in tow, with any luck." Tossing off
the remainder of his wine, he rose.
    "Argos, you stay here and take care of the
lady," he instructed the dog, who lifted his head and thumped his
tail in apparent understanding. With a respectful salute, he left
the apartment, closing the door softly behind him.
    At the sound of the key turning in the lock,
Pearl started to her feet in alarm. He was making her a prisoner
here! She took two strides toward the door, then noticed Argos
regarding her curiously. She relaxed, feeling suddenly foolish. Of
course he had locked the door, in a neighborhood such as this one.
Doubtless he'd done it to ensure her safety, not for any nefarious
purpose.
    Laughing at her misplaced fears, she sat down
again. "Some adventurer I'm turning out to be," she said to the
dog. "All of my daring plans to institute social reform, and here I
am, completely unnerved by merely witnessing a poorer section of
London. I'm