The Wedding Escape Read Online Free PDF Page B

door.”
    Oliver frowned. “Who said anything about goin’ in the front door?”
    â€œOliver—” Jack began in a warning tone.
    â€œAll right, then.” He crammed his hat back onto his head and stomped toward the door, clearly irritated at having his skills called into question.
    â€œWhere are we?” murmured Amelia, her voice thick with sleep.
    â€œWe’re in London.”
    She was silent for a moment, trying to make sense of the deep, unfamiliar voice. Slowly she opened her eyes to find her head pillowed against the hard muscles of Jack’s thighs while her hand lay with shocking intimacy upon his knee.
    â€œOh!” she gasped, bolting upright and scrambling away from him. “Please excuse me—I’m afraid I must have been very tired.”
    â€œYou were.” Jack was amused by her sudden sense of propriety.
    â€œIs this your house?” she asked, desperate to shift his attention away from the fact that she had just been lying atop him. “It’s very nice.”
    â€œIt belongs to my parents, the Marquess and Marchioness of Redmond, but no one is here now except for a couple of servants. Come.” He leapt down from the carriage and extended his hand to her. “I believe we can find a bed inside that is far more comfortable than—” He was about to say “my lap,” but the heated stain on Miss Belford’s cheeks suggested she might not appreciate his attempt at humor. “—this carriage.”
    She groped around the dark floor for her shoes and slipped them onto her feet before laying her palm lightly against his hand. It felt soft and small, like a sun-warmed petal against his callused skin.
    â€œPerhaps you had better take your jewelry as well,” he suggested, indicating the veil-wrapped bundle on the seat.
    She scooped up the priceless bundle without interest, gathered her crumpled skirts into one hand, and permitted Jack to assist her from the carriage.
    â€œLord have mercy on us—it’s Mr. Jack!” cried a startled voice.
    A short dumpling of a woman with a flushed face and a frazzle of silver hair poking out from beneath her nightcap stared at them wide-eyed from the doorway. Her cheeks were fleshy but wrinkled and her little round eyes were slightly glazed, as if she had just been roused from a deep sleep. She opened her mouth to say something more, exposing a row of slightly crooked, yellowing teeth, but all that came out was an extremely loud hiccup.
    â€œGood evening, Lizzie,” said Jack as the housekeeper clapped a hand to her lips. “I hope we’re not causing you too much inconvenience with our late arrival.”
    The syrupy smell of gin wafted from the older woman’s nostrils and mouth as he escorted Amelia into the house.
    â€œOf course not,” mumbled Lizzie, struggling admirably to affect a sober demeanor. She hiccuped loudly again, then blinked, hoping no one had noticed. “We just wasn’t expectin’ you, is all.”
    â€œI’m sorry I wasn’t able to give you notice,” Jack apologized. “I had not intended to come to London, but my plans changed.”
    A great, round ball of a man exploded suddenly through the kitchen door, desperately trying to tie the sash of his crimson dressing gown over the generous expanse of his girth. A blue-and-white-striped nightcap drooped precariously upon his shiny bald head, and he had only managed to find one scuffed and worn bedroom slipper, leaving the stubby toes of his other foot bare. Like Lizzie’s, his face was amply lined, suggesting he had seen sixty years and more, but Amelia thought there was something sweetly childlike about him as he fumbled clumsily with the fraying tie of his dressing gown.
    â€œGood evening, Beaton,” said Jack.
    â€œGoda’mighty!” swore Beaton, his glassy eyes nearly popping from his head as he stared in bleary confusion at Amelia. “Our Mr.