The Leopard Prince Read Online Free PDF Page B

twisting in his chest, but that was bootless. Why should she be any different from everyone else?
    “They all seem to be under the impression that you’ve been poisoning the neighbor’s sheep with some kind of weed. Although”—her brow puckered—“why everyone should fly up into the boughs about sheep, even murdered sheep, I’m not quite sure.”
    Harry stared. Surely she jested? But then again, she was from the city. “Sheep are the backbone of this country, my lady.”
    “I know the farmers all raise them hereabouts.” She peered at the cake tray, hand hovering above it, apparently choosing a sweet. “I’m sure people become quite fond of their livestock—”
    “They aren’t pets.”
    She looked up at his sharp tone, and her eyebrows drew together.
    He was impertinent, he knew, but damn it, she needed to know. “They’re life. Sheep are a man’s meat and his clothes. The income to pay the landowner his due. The thing that keeps his family alive.”
    She stilled, her blue eyes solemn. He felt something light and frail connect himself and this woman, who was so far above his station. “The loss of an animal might mean no new dress for a man’s wife. Maybe a shortage of sugar in the pantry. A couple of dead sheep could keep his children from winter shoes. For a farmer living lean”—he shrugged—“he might not make the rent, might have to kill the rest of his herd to feed his family.”
    Her eyes widened.
    “That way lies ruin.” Harry gripped the settee arm, trying to explain, trying to make her understand. “That way lies the poorhouse.”
    “Ah. So the thing is more serious than I knew.” She sat back with a sigh. “It would appear I must act.” She looked at him, it seemed, regretfully.
    Here it was, finally. He braced himself.
    The front doors slammed.
    Lady Georgina cocked her head. “What . . .?”
    Something crashed in the hall, and Harry leaped to his feet. Arguing voices and a scuffle were coming nearer. He placed himself between the door and Lady Georgina. His left hand drifted down to the top of his boot.
    “I’ll see her now, damn your eyes!” The door flew open, and a ruddy-faced man stormed in.
    Greaves followed, panting, his wig crooked. “My lady, I am so sorry—”
    “That’s all right,” Lady Georgina said. “You may leave us.”
    The butler looked like he wanted to protest, but he caught Harry’s eye. “My lady.” He bowed and shut the door.
    The man wheeled and looked past Harry to Lady Georgina. “This cannot go on, ma’am! I have had enough. If you cannot control that bastard you employ, I will take matters into my own hands and have great pleasure in doing so.”
    He started forward, his heavy face flushed red against his white powdered wig, his hands balled threateningly at his sides. He looked almost exactly the same as he had that morning eighteen years ago. The heavy-lidded brown eyes were handsome even in age. He had the shoulders and arms of a strong man—thick, like a bull. The years had brought closer the gap in their heights, but Harry was still half a head shorter. And the sneer on the thick lips— yes, that was certainly unchanged. Harry would carry the memory of that sneer to his grave.
    The man was abreast of him now, paying no attention to him, his gaze focused solely on Lady Georgina. Harry shot out his right hand, his arm a solid bar across the other man’s path. The intruder made to barrel through the barrier, but Harry held firm.
    “What th—” The man cut himself off and stared down at Harry’s hand. His right hand.
    The one with the missing finger.
    Slowly, the other man raised his head and met Harry’s eyes. Recognition flamed in his gaze.
    Harry bared his teeth in a grin, though he had never felt less amused in his life. “Silas Granville.” Deliberately he left off the title.
    Silas stiffened. “Goddamn you to hell, Harry Pye.”

Chapter Three
    No wonder Harry Pye never smiled. The expression on his face at that moment was