The Runaway Countess Read Online Free PDF Page A

accident?”
    “Who says I was there?” Too agitated to sit, she darted around him and walked to the window. She placed her hands on the sill and drank in the cool night air. It was a long drop to the earth below with nothing to hold on to.
    “There is no escape.”
    No there wasn’t, was there. She made herself face him.
    He took a calm sip of wine. “I’m not leaving until you tell me why you thought to steal from an honorable man. Is this how you conduct your imitations of justice? Prey on unsuspecting victims when they are the most vulnerable?”
    Mazie bit her lip to keep from replying. His taunts would not work. She would not talk.
    “I see I have upset you,” he murmured. “Your face is rather red. The truth does make one vulnerable, does it not?”
    The man was beyond annoying. She tried to turn her attention to the breeze across the back of her neck and not the strangling effort to hold her tongue.
    “Stealing from a war hero,” he pushed, “very commendable, Miss Mazie Jones Bell.”
    “Oh, yes.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Because every war hero is so honorable.”
    “This one is.”
    “And you know so much about him?”
    “I know more than you do.”
    She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure that opinion applies to many topics.”
    “Not the Midnight Rider. I do not know nearly enough about him.”
    “Yet you seem eager to hang him.”
    “And you seem eager to condemn Lord Atherton.”
    Mazie pressed her lips closed. This argument was going nowhere.
    “Why I assume you have some intelligent reason is beyond me.” He stretched his back, dismissing her. “You are obviously just a hysterical female.”
    She gaped at him. He was so infuriating. “You are so infuriating.” She lost her tenuous control over her tongue. “What if I did take those items? What wrong would there be in it? You may steal from your tenants. You may take shillings from the hungry and be lauded as a task maker. Yet I would be vilified for helping those who have been wronged.”
    Trent’s brows snapped together and he appeared both angry and confused, as if he did not know what she talked about, but did not think he would like it. “I steal from no one. But you, you seek to defend your crimes, though they were misguided.”
    “I do not confess any crimes, my superior lordship. And who is misguided? The wealthy and powerful in Radford have long denied the basic humanity of the villagers. Why else would there be such deep-rooted animosity, such anger?”
    “And you sought to alleviate this inequality by stealing from an innocent man?”
    “Oh, come now.” Mazie scoffed and threw her hands into the air. “Did you hear me confess?”
    He raised a sardonic brow. She had been caught selling the items. It was rather ridiculous to continue to deny it.
    “This system of subjective personal justice you have created fascinates me.” Too agitated to remain still, Trent paced the small confines of the room. “You yourself hold a tremendous amount of power. You may choose what to tell me, whether the Midnight Rider faces a court of justice or continues with his crimes. I am curious, how do you judge right and wrong, guilt and innocence? Do you have a book of some sort? A set of rules? Lists? Or do you just make it up as you go?”
    He stopped and looked at her like he wanted an answer, but he spoke before she thought of one.
    “Who do you think you are to decide justice? What gives you the right to interfere with the complex legal system of His Majesty? Perhaps we should all embrace your creative system, mmm? What do you think, Mazie? Will that make everyone in Radford safe and free?”
    “The people of Radford are neither safe nor free under your system, my lord. It could only be an improvement.” Her braid coiled around her shoulder as she tossed her head.
    “Very well, I shall tell all the tenants you are now at liberty to steal at will, but only from those deserving. Have at it. What fun that would be,