Silken Secrets Read Online Free PDF

stuff?”
    “I haven’t been invited, but I understand he lives in a big way and will be able to accommodate me.” Mr. Robertson noticed Lord Edwin’s frown. If this fellow had managed to get hold of the cargo, he obviously wouldn’t want to sell his stolen goods under Vulch’s nose. “Or I could be reached here, at the inn,” he added. “I’ll be stopping here from time to time to—to pick up my mail,” he said in confusion.
    “With the big demand for silk at this time,” Lord Edwin said, “I wonder if the stuff wouldn’t fetch an even higher price in London.’’
    Mr. Robertson rushed in to assure him it would not. The subject of silk was allowed to drop, and the remainder of the meal passed pleasantly. Just before leaving, Mr. Robertson thought he would like to have a look at where the silk vanished and turned his warmest smile on Mary Anne. He noticed then that she was, in fact, attractive.
    Her beauty was of the quiet sort that crept up on you, rather than leaping out and assaulting you at one blow. Her eyes were dark and lustrous, but it was her smile that he found particularly winning. It was a soft, shy smile that suited her retiring manner. After the wayward debs of London it was a pleasant change.
    To win favor with the uncle, Mr. Robertson reached for the bill when it was presented. “You were kind enough to let me share your table,” he said to Lord Edwin. “You must allow me to take care of the bill.”
    Lord Edwin didn’t give him any argument. Once a fellow has paid for your mutton, you could hardly snub him. Lord Edwin smiled his agreement when Mr. Robertson hinted that he would be honored if he might call on Miss Judson tomorrow.
    She stared as if she couldn’t believe her ears, and looked to her uncle. “That—that would be fine,” she said in a voice that squeaked with pleasant embarrassment. Her cheeks flushed bright pink in a way that made Mr. Robertson smile.
    They called for their carriages and went out together, surveyed by many curious eyes. A stranger in Dymchurch wasn’t interesting per se, but when he stood chatting with Miss Judson and her uncle, he acquired some cachet.
    The carriage awaiting the newcomer was a yellow sporting curricle, drawn by a spanking pair of grays. Lord Edwin’s eyes roamed lovingly over the team, then turned disconsolately to his own sadly matched pair of jades. “That’s a dandy set of prads,” he said. “I daresay a team like that would set a fellow back a pretty penny at Tattersall’s.” Imagine a Cit having such a bang-up team.
    “They don’t come cheap, but you get what you pay for,” Robertson answered nonchalantly.
    Lord Edwin patted the nags a minute, then said, “I’ll have my driver draw to a halt when we come to Vulch’s side road. You turn right there and go a quarter of a mile down a crinkum-crankum road to the house. A great pretentious thing with half a dozen bow windows. You can’t miss it. Good night, Mr. Robertson. Nice to have met you.”
    Mr. Robertson bowed and returned the civility. Before leaving, he said to Mary Anne, “And how do I reach your house, Miss Judson? How shall I recognize it tomorrow?”
    “Horton Hall is a mile farther along this road. It’s an old run-down Tudor home,” she said. Her frankness amused him. No putting on airs. Like a real lady, she stated the truth without shame.
    A pity he’d be so busy. He felt he could learn to cherish this Miss Judson with the sweet smile. After he settled his business, he might linger a day or two. But business before pleasure—and what the devil could have happened to the cargo?
    In the carriage Mary Anne said, “He seemed very nice.”
    “A bang-up team.”
    Lord Edwin stopped his dilatory team at Vulch’s road, and he and Mary Anne craned their necks to see that the yellow curricle made the proper turn before they continued on their way. Mr. Roberton lifted his curled beaver and bowed.
    At Horton Hall Mrs. Plummer had set the table with care and