Wicked and Wonderful Read Online Free PDF

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    Margaret's eyes grew very wide. “I never had such kisses before. La, Judy, but he is a rogue.” She then fell to contemplating the notion for a brief moment then suddenly shook herself like a duck emerging from water. “But pay no heed, a rogue’s trick, only. All I wish to know is that ye are not injured. Tell me he did not do ye harm in any way.”
    Judith remembered his odd comment that she had been unwise to be abroad since others of less refined and careful notions about ladies would have hurt her. She could not help but smile recalling he had said as much while holding her captive in his arms. “No,” she said. “Not really. He may have a shocking reputation, and he may be a rogue, but he apparently has a set of careful rules by which he conducts himself. He did not hurt me nor do I believe he would ever do so.”
    Margaret shook her head in bewilderment. “Ye trust him then?”
    “Yes, I suppose I do though I cannot explain it. I believe him to be more a man of art in his conquests than force which I suppose for me is a very good thing, indeed.”
    Margaret rose from her seat. “Well, ye had best come. The troupe will want to be hearing from ye. And no matter wat Master Hemyock says, we make our decisions together.” With that, Margaret quit the tent.
    Judith tied a blue ribbon around her mass of curls, picked up her portable sewing stand and followed in her wake. By the time she drew close to the fire, upon which Mrs. Marnhull’s largest pot had been set to boil, Charles and Henry were nearly at daggers-drawn. Henry caught sight of her and instantly his demeanor changed. He stood straighter, even turning away from Charles.
    Charles, however, addressed her with all the force of his acting voice, each word trembling with emotion. “Ye... would do this to us... again.” He even gestured with a wide sweep of his arm encompassing the entire troupe.
    “Oh, do stubble it, Charlie,” she responded evenly. She took up a seat near John and far enough away from the fire to keep from scorching either her skirts or her workbox. “Save your breath to cool your porridge or at the very least for your next performance.” This address of course brought a flame of rage to his face and a round of laughter passing through the ranks. “Now, what is all the fuss?” she added before he could begin another tirade. From her box, she withdrew the boy’s shirt she was presently embroidering with neat, even stitches, took up her needle and continued her work.
    “Ye know very well wat this is about,” Henry said. Glancing up at him, Judith could see that he was very angry. “I think ye know precisely wat ‘the fuss’ is.”
    She saw that he was restraining himself with some effort. “You must be referring to the Earl of Kelthorne and his reputation.” She lowered her gaze and set another stitch.
    “O’ course.”
    “But I thought the matter was already settled particularly when we were given permission to stay on his lands.” She smoothed out part of the shirt on her legs and plied her needle anew.
    “Aye, but I begin to think maybe he had a purpose in letting us stay on his land and now I think ‘tis true.”
    “Humbug,” she declared, meeting his gaze.
    He ground his teeth. Everyone was watching him. Little Shelly, Margaret’s daughter of five, sitting on her papa’s lap, pointed at Henry. “Why is Henry mad at Judy?”
    John took hold of her little fist and the accusing finger and gently returned her arm to her side. “He wants Judy to be safe is all.”
    Shelly turned to look at Judith. “Are ye not safe?”
    Judith, near enough to touch Shelly, reached over and tickled her. “I am perfectly safe as Henry well knows.”
    John glanced at Judith and smiled in his kind manner, “Are ye certain?”
    “Quite,” she responded firmly and set another stitch.
    Charles, however, refused to be satisfied with this. “‘Tis the outside of enough,” he said. “Judy is naught but a songstress who we