Tallie's Knight Read Online Free PDF Page A

to love Freddie. But Freddie was,
Magnus knew, a lovable person.
    It was not the same
for Magnus. He had clearly been an unlovable child. And was therefore not a
lovable man. But he would do everything in his power to ensure his children had
the chance to be lovable. And therefore to be loved.
    Magnus glanced around
the room again. He supposed it was possible that some of these frivolous girls
would settle into motherhood, but it was difficult to believe, especially with
the example of his cousin before him.
    “Oh, it is such a
delightfully mild evening,” cried Laetitia. “Let us stroll on the terrace
before dinner. Come Magnus, as my guest of honour, you shall escort the lady of
your choice.”
    A dozen feminine
gazes turned his way. There was an expectant hush. Magnus silently cursed his
cousin for trying to force his hand.
    Clearly she wished the
house party concluded so that she could return to Town and the myriad
entertainments there. Magnus smiled. He danced to no female’s tune.
    “Then, as a good
guest, I must look to the care of my charming hostess,” he responded lightly. “Cousin,
shall we?” He took her arm, allowing her no choice, and they stepped through
the French doors onto the terrace. The other guests followed.
    Tallie trailed
awkwardly in their wake. She felt most uncomfortable.
    Several of the young
ladies had eyed her gown, whispering and tittering with careless amusement.
Their mothers had totally ignored her and two of the gentlemen guests had made
improper suggestions. The guests had taken their tone from Laetitia —Tallie was
an unconsidered encumbrance, little better than a servant, and in the current
mood of thwarted ambition she was a convenient target.
    Tallie was angry, but
told herself sternly that there was little point in expressing her feelings —they
would be gone soon, and she would be left in peace again with the children and
Brooks and Mrs. Wilmot. It should be simple enough for her to ignore the spite of
a few ill-bred aristocrats.
    The pale young
marquise held her chin high, ignoring the vile insults flung at her by the
ignorant canaille, as the tumbrel rolled onwards. She was dressed in rags, her
lovely gowns stolen by the prison guards, but her dignity was unimpaired.
Tallie slipped unobtrusively to the edge of the terrace and looked out over the
stone balustrade to the closely scythed sweep of lawn and the woods beyond. It
was a truly lovely view.
    “Aaargh! Get down,
you filthy beast!” Laetitia’s screeches pierced the air. “Get it off me,
someone! Aaargh!”
    Tallie hurried to see
what had occurred. She wriggled between some of the gathered guests and let out
an exclamation of distress.
    Her cousin’s small
son, Georgie, had obviously escaped from the nursery and gone adventuring with
the puppy that Tallie had given him several weeks before. He stood in front of
his mother, a ragged bunch of snowdrops held pathetically out towards her. His
shoes and nankeen pantaloons were covered in mud, as was the puppy. It was the
cause of the trouble —muddy paw prints marred Laetitia’s new jonquil silk gown.
    Laetitia, unused to
dogs, screeched and backed away, hysterically flapping her fan at the pup, who
seemed to think it a delightful game.
    He leaped up, yapping
in excitement, attempting to catch the fan in his jaws, liberally spattering
the exquisite gown in the process.
    Tallie was still
attempting to wriggle through the press of guests when Lord d’Arenville grabbed
the pup and handed him by the scruff of its neck to the little boy. Tallie
reached the child just as his mother’s tirade broke over him.
    “How dare you bring
that filthy beast near me, you wicked boy! Do you see what it has done? This
gown is ruined! Ruined, I tell you!”
    The small face
whitened in distress. Mutely Georgie offered the wilting bunch of snowdrops.
Laetitia dashed them impatiently from his hands.
    “Do not try to turn
me up sweet, Georgie! See what you have done? Look at this dress!