A Much Compromised Lady by Shannon Donnelly Read Free Book Online

found.
That’s the way of those Gypsies.”
    He spat the word out as if it was an
unpleasant taste, and St. Albans had to check a spurt of anger. He
took a breath, and took a rein on his temper, and illumination
clicked into place.
    Good heavens, the man actually has
something to hide. Fear had flickered at the back of Nevin’s
pale gray eyes. And a touch of shame, for which he would probably
die before admitting.
    St. Albans recognized the emotion at once. He
always committed his sins in public, for it was impossible to carry
shame for something the entire world knew. But what shameful sins
did Nevin hide?
    Smiling, St. Albans flipped closed his snuff
with his thumb and slipped the carved ivory box into his waistcoat
pocket.
    “I suppose those Gypsies look for whatever
plump pocket is near. Yet, it is quite amazing then that she went
to your rooms, and did not bother with the guineas I left in mine.
Do you think that mysterious Gypsy sense told her that you traveled
with something far more valuable?”
    Nevin’s scowl deepened and turned away, as if
the conversation was over.
    “It’s Retribution,” St. Albans said.
    His expression startled, Nevin swung around
to glare at St. Albans, that faint shimmering fear back in those
pale eyes.
    How satisfying to score a point , St.
Albans thought, now thoroughly enjoying himself. There seemed to be
some truth to his Gypsy’s story, after all.
    “Retribution,” he repeated. “The horse that
won those coins for me at Newmarket. Quite an amazing animal. By
Aston, out of Forgetful.”
    Nevin’s eyes blazed and his mouth curved into
something close to a snarl. St. Albans held still, waiting. How
close to home had he struck?
    With his expression souring to disdain,
Nevin’s heavy chin lifted. “You’re a damned wastrel, and a disgrace
to your name.”
    “Oh, I waste nothing. I assure you of
that.”
    Scowling, Nevin opened his mouth as if to say
more, but a shout from one of the grooms drew his attention.
    “Ready, m’lord.”
    With a last contemptuous glance at St.
Albans, Nevin stalked away. His servants bowed before him, lowered
the steps before he reached them and put them up again with a
jumpiness that spoke of insecurity in their positions. With a coach
horn blowing imperiously, and outriders leading the procession, the
heavy coach lumbered forward.
    An impossible cavalcade to miss. And any
fool—or Gypsy—could track and follow that parade. Well, that
certainly made clear how his Gypsy came to take note of Lord Nevin.
But just what had she come here to steal from the man?
    It would take some work, unpleasant as that
was, to discover the truth. However, he would console himself with
the fact that his Gypsy would make it up to him someday. She
would—in one fashion or another.
    * * *
    Glynis watched her mother lay the cards upon
the thick, gold Turkish carpet. Even though her mother could not
see, she still knew the pattern of the cards, for she had been
laying out cards since she was a girl herself. And she knew the
cards by the feel of them, by the edges and nicks and the painted
images on the old deck.
    They sat on the ground, red pillows under her
mother, but Glynis preferred the hard earth. She liked the
connection to land, and she liked to feel the hum of it through her
bones, and she loved the reassurance it gave her. The land would
always be there. The seasons came in order. The world turned as it
should. Those things she trusted. All else she regarded with deep
suspicion.
    Even the cards.
    Too often they disappointed. In fact, all her
life had seemed to be heartache after trouble. But it would not be
like that forever. No. This year everything was changing. This year
the wheel turned, and their lives would change. For the better—or
for the worse.
    She wanted that change, for the hope it
brought that she might at last be able to have a real home. A
cottage in a village was all she had ever wanted. A place to live,
where she was known and where she knew