The Emerald Swan Read Online Free PDF Page A

nibbled her lip. “I didn’t mean to be impolite, milord.”
    He inclined his head in acknowledgment, but that same glinting humor was in his eyes and Miranda, reassured, took another gulp of her ale, realizing that she was parched after racing through the streets. She subjected her savior to a covert scrutiny. There was something very relaxed about him as he leaned carelessly against the bar counter, an air that she found as comforting as it was attractive. It gave her a sense of well-being and safety.
    What had the innkeeper called him? Ah, MilordHarcourt, that was it. “I would like to thank you for all your kindness, Milord Harcourt,” she ventured. “It’s not as if we are acquainted in any way.”
    “Curiously, I’m beginning to feel rather well acquainted with you,” he returned, adding wryly, “whether I wish to be or not.”
    Miranda pressed her nose to the scratched pane, telling herself that it was ridiculous to feel injured, even if it had sounded as if he was mocking her. He had entered her life for the briefest of moments and he would disappear from it as swiftly.
    The lane outside was quiet. “I think it’s safe for me to leave now. I won’t trouble you further, milord.”
    Gareth looked surprised. That deep melodious voice had an edge to it. “If you’re sure it’s safe,” he said. “You’re welcome to remain in here as long as you wish.”
    “Thank you, but I should go.” She turned toward the door. “And thank you again, milord, for your many kindnesses.” She offered him a rather jerky little bow and disappeared from the taproom. The monkey leaped back on her shoulder and offered Gareth an obscene gesture with one prehensile digit, letting loose a stream of chatter that sounded unmistakably belligerent.
    Ungrateful beast, Gareth reflected, drawing on his pipe. But the girl’s astonishing resemblance to Maude continued to occupy his mind. It was said that for every person on earth there existed a double, but he’d never given such a fancy the time of day before.
    “You’ll be wantin’ supper, my lord?” Molton reappeared in the taproom.
    “In an hour.” Gareth finished his pipe and ale. “I’m going to the livery stables to look at that horse. And I’llneed a bed for the night. I’ll pay for the privilege of one to myself, and a private chamber if you have one.”
    “Oh, aye, m’lord. A nice chamber above the wash-house, just right for one.” Molton bowed, his head almost knocking against his knees. “But I’ll have to charge a crown for it, m’lord. I could put three folk in the bed without it seeming a crowd.”
    Gareth’s mobile eyebrows lifted. “But I thought I heard you to say it was just right for one?”
    “It’s perfect for one, m’lord,” Molton explained with dignity. “But it’s suitable for three.”
    “Ah, I see. The situation is now perfectly clear.” Gareth picked up his jeweled gloves from the bar counter. “Have my traps taken up to the washhouse chamber then, and I’ll sit to table when I get back.” He strolled out of the inn, leaving Molton nodding and bowing like a jack-in-the-box at the earl’s retreating rear.
    The horse on offer in the livery stable was a mere nag, but it would carry him the seventy miles to London if he nursed it, and it wasn’t as if he was in a desperate hurry. Imogen would be on tenterhooks, of course, and Miles would be scurrying around in search of a hiding place from the relentless barrage of complaints and speculation. But Gareth’s ears were already ringing in anticipation of his sister’s shrill excitement together with her husband’s weak counterpoint, and he was not eager to face the reality.
    Not for the first time, he wondered how he had let his sister assume the responsibility of his household. After the dreadful debacle with Charlotte, lost in the maze of his own secret guilt, he had somehow dropped his guard, and Imogen was a past mistress at seizing any opening where her brother was