The Notorious Scoundrel Read Online Free PDF

She ordered him to rest again. He obliged her; his head was throbbing.
    “I guess I can read.”
    He sighed as he lowered his head onto the feather pillow.
    “I guess you can,” she returned stiffly, setting the mirrors onto the dressing table. “An educated thief. I’m impressed.”
    Was she still brooding over the bonny Meg? he thought wolfishly.
    Who was Meg?
    His sweetheart? His wife? No…not his wife. He had no memory, but he had a feeling, an instinct the lass was not his spouse. The woman was dear to him, though, that much was for sure. He wouldn’t have inked her name on his back otherwise…unless he’d been foxed at the time. Perhaps she was just a pretty wench he’d tried to impress with the tattoo?
    He was thinking too much; his head pounded with vim.
    “Are you married, Amy?”
    She whirled around. “I told you, we’re not married!”
    “To someone else, I mean?”
    “No.” She placed her arms akimbo. “I live alone.”
    “What do you do for livelihood?”
    She hesitated. There was obvious uncertainty in her handsome green eyes.
    “Don’t trust an educated thief, do you?”
    “No,” she said flatly.
    “I wouldn’t, either.”
    She screwed up her lips. “I suppose it’s no secret…I’m a barmaid at a gentlemen’s club. I serve drinks—and that’s all I do!”
    “You’ve said that to me before, haven’t you?” He frowned. “It sounds like you’re repeating yourself.”
    “I am.” She glowered at him. “You were both foxed—and bold—tonight.”
    “At the club? Where we met?”
    “That’s right.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    She bobbed her head. “You’re forgiven.”
    He might still be woozy and disoriented, but something didn’t seem quite right about her cajoling him into an apology.
    “Didn’t I save your life?”
    She pointed at him with accusation. “You do remember!”
    “No,” he said, drawing out the word. “You told me I saved your life, remember?”
    She looked flustered. He admired the color in her cheeks. It suited her pale complexion well.
    “Yes, you offered me assistance,” she confirmed. “And?”
    “Well, where’s my thank-you?”
    She eyed him with suspicion. “Thank you.”
    “That wasn’t very sincere.”
    She scowled at him. “What do you want from me?”
    “A kiss.”
    She pressed her pretty lips together until the rosy flesh turned white. “You’re teasing me. You do remember everything about tonight, don’t you?”
    Had he kissed her at the club? What a miserable quirk of fate that he shouldn’t remember the sensual experience. It made the agony in his head all the more acute, for he rummaged through the foggy shadows in his mind, searching for the sweet memory.
    A series of knocks resounded at the door in the other room.
    Edward winced at the cacophony in his skull.
    “Let me in, Amy!”
    “Oh no!” The lass whitened even more. “It’s Madame Rafaramanjaka.”
    The unusual name rolled around in his head. “Who?”
    “Stay here!”
    She sprinted from the room and soon returned with his shirt and coat. She tossed both garments, still moist, onto the bed.
    “Don’t leave the room, please! If she finds you here, she’ll have me tossed into the street!”
    The look of horror in Amy’s eyes sobered Edward. Madame Raf…whatever her name was…must be the eccentric landlady who frowned on any immoral activity taking place under her roof—like an unmarried girl entertaining a bachelor in her bedchamber. He certainly didn’t want to see the lass destitute. However, staying in the room wasn’t going to protect Amy, not if the landlady was determined to search the quarters.
    He gathered his clothes as soon as Amy had closed the door, kicked his boots, sitting on the floor, under the bed, then slowly made his way to the tall, decorative screen at the other end of the bedchamber.
    He was dizzy and a bit confused by the need for a room divider in such a small space, but he slipped behind it, unwilling to dwell too much on the