An Honorable Thief by Anne Gracíe Read Free Book Online Page B

did not listen this time she would be more firm; once Thomas was out of the picture, Mr Devenish would have no reason to enquire into her background.
    Foiling Mr Devenish's brusque, penetrating enquiries was much like fencing with rapiers —exhilarating but dangerous. To see much more of him would be dangerous not only to her plans, but to her peace of mind, she suspected.
    So she would allow herself one more encounter with the big dark watchdog and then —
    "Oh, I'm sorry!"
    Kit's thought were interrupted as a young girl came blundering into the withdrawing room and crashed into her.
    "Are you all right?" she asked.
    The girl, who was very young and very pretty, stared a moment at Kit, then burst into tears, clearly overwrought.
    Kit seated the young girl on a padded velvet bench and set herself to calming her. She had noticed her at a number of social events; like Kit, the girl was only just out.
    "Miss...Miss Lutens, is it not?"
    The girl nodded tearfully. "And you are Miss Singleton. I met you last week at Mrs Russell's recital. How do you do?" she sobbed, politely holding out her hand.
    Kit smiled at such well-drilled manners. She patted the girl's hand and took out a handkerchief. "Tell me what is distressing you?'' she said after Miss Lutens had calmed a tittle.
    "Oh, I cannot," she wept. "It is too mortifying, too foolish of me. I am just..." She wiped her eyes with Kit's handkerchief.
    "Come now, splash some cold water on your face and you will feel better. Would you like me to fetch your mama?"
    "Oh, no!" gasped Miss Lutens in distress. "Mama would be so cross."
    Kit stared. It had been her impression that girls always turned to their mothers in distress.
    "It is nothing. I am being silly, that is all. It is just that Sir Bar —no! No, take no notice. It is nothing."
    Sir Bar — Kit frowned. She recalled seeing this girl in the company of a certain Sir Bartlemy Bowles. Quite frequently, of late.
    "Has Sir Bartlemy Bowles been bothering you?" she asked bluntly.
    Miss Lutens gasped. "How did you know?''
    "I saw him with you earlier. My aunt warned me about him. He is reputed to have the hands of an octopus, is that not so?"
    Miss Lutens blinked.
    "Too many hands, too much touching," explained Kit.
    "Oh!" Miss Lutens gasped, blushing. "Yes, exactly! And clammy !"She wrung her hands together in distress. "I simply cannot bear it."
    "Tell your mother," recommended Kit. "She'll soon send the clammy-handed old roue about his business. From what my aunt says, he's notorious for pestering young girls. And though he is rich, he's also married, so there is no need to worry that your mama plans to wed you to the horrid old slug."
    Miss Lutens giggled at the description, but shook her head. "No, that is the trouble, for I did mention it once, and Mama did not believe that Sir Bartlemy could be so ungallant. She told me not to be so silly."
    Her hands twisted the damp handkerchief into a rope. “He used to be a beau of hers, you understand, before she married Papa, and I think she still has a tendre for him." She bit her Up. "I think.. .Mama thinks he is paying me so much attention for her sake..."
    "Ahh," said Kit, understanding her dilemma at last. "Well, then, you must get rid of the fellow yourself."
    Miss Lutens stared at her with large brown eyes. "Get rid of him? But how?"
    "Be firm, be bold," said Kit decisively. "Tell him to keep his hands to himself."
    Miss Lutens's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Oh! I am not sure I could... And what if he does not?"
    “Then slap him! Good and hard.''
    "Oh, I could not possibly slap him!" gasped Miss Lu-tens. "It would make a scandal, me slapping a man of his rank and years. I truly could not!"
    Kit frowned. Miss Lutens had a point. “Well, try being firm and speaking to him about it, and if that does not work, let me know. I shall think of something. We women have to put up with enough in life without having to endure furtive caresses from a slug!"
    "Oh, yes! Thank you!" Miss