The Reckless One Read Online Free PDF Page B

much as the one the girl proposed—
if
it was true. Besides, if he walked out of the room he doubted he would get far. His last experience had taught him the necessity of plans and allies.
    He had no allies; he didn’t even know what lay beyond the next hill. And even if he did escape, to what? Without papers or money, he would be forced to wander until he was recaptured or had managed to accrue some wealth—if he didn’t end his life in some wretched tavern brawl first.
    He wanted more than that. His years of incarceration had dared him to consider whether his life could have some value. He’d found he wanted more than that future he’d been pursuing before France: a dingy echo of his sire’s brilliant sins.
    He glanced at the girl across the table from him. She’d recaptured her golden hair in a knot at the nape of her neck—a pity, as her free-flowing tresses were rare lovely. Tension marked the corners of her mouth as she endeavored to convince him to accede to her plan.
    Raine suspected begging did not come easy to her. God would mark a woman with such uncompromising brows only as fair warning to the opposite sex. Raine gave a fleeting thought to her dead husband. She would have any husband on his knees, this one.
    Jacques, chewing through a hunk of grizzled meat, remained silent. Wise man to let the girl do his procuring. The light of the tallow candle cupped her cheek in a warm glow. When was the last time Raine had touched anything as soft as her cheek looked to be?
    He refilled his cup, trying to vanquish the spell she cast and pick out how much of what she told him was true. Not that it mattered. If all he needed to do was appear on the docks and speak in genteel accents to some English pirate, and by doing so broker a passage to Scotland … Well, was it not worth the risk of trusting this pair?
     
    Though Dieppe’s docks were crowded, the
Le Rex Rouge Inne
was unusually deserted. But then, Raine thought, peering through the carriage window at the tavern where he was to meet the smuggler, he knew little of life in these dockyards. Dieppe was a fresh-born harbor town.
    A gust of wind found its way into the carriage and beneath his newly acquired coat. More from long-forgotten habit than need, he drew the thick wool folds shut. Beside him the girl shivered, her cobalt gaze fixed outside. Since he’d agreed to her scheme she’d been quiet and preoccupied.
    On the driver’s seat above, Jacques waited for a signal from the smuggler. As soon as he received it he would alert Raine, who would then proceed to the tavern to complete negotiations for their passage. He jingled the three gold Louies in his pocket, money he’d extorted from Jacques by claiming—not without some validity—that he might have to sweeten the pot should the smuggler prove recalcitrant.
    If all went accordingly, Madame Lambert would wait within the carriage until an agreement had been made; then she and Jacques would fetch little Angus from wherever she’d secreted him. Fond mother that she was, she hadn’t wanted to bring her son to the docks before it was absolutely necessary. The thought of little Angus awoke Raine’s curiosity about the young woman’s dead husband. “How did he die?”
    She turned her head. In the dim light of the carriage her eyes looked nearly black. “Monsieur?”
    “Your husband, how did he die?”
    “Oh. An infection of the lungs.” She averted her face once more.
    “You were much attached to him?” he asked.
    She remained mute.
    She did not want to speak to him. He could not much resent her decision. She knew nothing of him other than that he was English and she’d found him in a prison. She hadn’t even asked his name. Of course, she needn’t fear for her safety what with Jacques only a heartbeat away.
    The thought of the giant servant damped the spark of ardor still plaguing Raine—but did not altogether drown it. He could not forget the feel of her trapped between his thighs, her hands