Wanted: One Scoundrel Read Online Free PDF

have your words by heart, Miss Esme, by tomorrow night.”
    “So soon?”
    “I understand and share your commitment to universal suffrage. I imagine your briefing papers are adequate to give me a sense of the situation here in the colony. And people will forgive any gaps in the knowledge of a newly arrived stranger.”
    “Well, then.” She felt strangely as if initiative had been wrested from her. “How about afternoon tea, tomorrow?”
    “Friday? Suits me,” Uncle Henry said.
    Jed shrugged and nodded.
    Esme squared her shoulders. “Then let’s do it.”

Chapter Four
    Jed had spent yesterday evening and this morning settling into his lodgings and arranging things to his satisfaction. Mrs. Hall had a shed she was willing to rent and he’d affixed a padlock to it. Tomorrow, he’d go in search of tools. He’d read long into the night, getting a sense of Esme’s political ideals and what she aimed to achieve.
    She wrote well. Not with high falutin’ language, but directly. She wanted people to understand why universal suffrage was important. For Esme, politics wasn’t about personal ambition. The need to serve society burned through her words.
    Now he looked around the drawing room of her family home and saw the people who’d chosen to ally themselves with her cause.
    It was a mixed bunch, not unnaturally with more women than men. Two serene middle-aged Indian women sipped tea and wore saris by the warmth of the fire. They completely ignored the miniature railway that ran the circumference of the room, circulating plates of tea cakes and treats, and rising on miniature elevators to skirt doorways and windows. There were pinwheel sandwiches, bachelor button cookies and fog cakes shimmering in a cloud of dry ice vapor and tasting of vanilla.
    An elderly British woman chatted with the two Indian ladies while pacing up and down, obviously restless indoors. She wore the tweeds Jed had come to recognize were the sign of a British woman happiest in the open countryside, and her weather-beaten complexion bore out that conclusion.
    A timid-looking man in a worn grey suit hovered nearby, darting to the tea train if any woman expressed a desire for a cake or refill. He was obviously and painfully eager to fit in.
    An older gentleman, wearing the frock coat of his medical profession, stood near Jed and confided frankly. “Let the women have the vote if they want it. Lot of fuss about nothing. If women want something, they get their men to do it. I’m here because Esme provides a damn fine tea.”
    “Go along, dear,” his wife, plump, silver-haired and amiable, chided gently. “As if you ever listen to me. You’re here because you believe in secession, and so does Esme.”
    “Damn right.” The doctor sprayed cake crumbs in his enthusiasm. “Join the rest of the colonies? Bah. Greedy beggars just want our gold.”
    The tea party was an amusing gathering of unlikely people. Nor was Jed expected to say much. People were only too happy to tell him their views on any given issue. However, if there was one issue that united them, it was their respect for Esme.
    Widow Bryant had been the most outspoken. Petite and youthful despite her mourning, she cornered Jed early. “I don’t know who you are or what you’re planning.” Clearly another woman who considered him a scoundrel. Jed hadn’t ever seen himself in such an exciting light—nor had his family. His brothers would laugh themselves stupid. “But Esme is important to us all. We won’t stand for anyone cheating or hurting her.”
    “I’m glad to hear that, ma’am. Believe me. I have no intention of doing either.”
    Such loyalty spoke well of Esme’s character, even if he hadn’t already discerned her essential honesty and generosity. He suspected Widow Bryant’s success as a seamstress owed much to Esme’s patronage, and in turn, explained Esme’s unexpected fashionableness. She seemed the kind to be impatient of fripperies like bows and ribbons, laces