Beyond A Wicked Kiss by Jo Goodman Read Free Book Online

tomorrow morning. As a statesman of considerable note and long service to the Crown, the duke was being accorded the honor of a Westminster Abbey burial. West was already determined to suffer the ceremony; he was not looking forward to it. "You were perhaps his mistress, then?"
    Miss Ashby blinked widely.
    West felt himself relax a modest amount. "You are of an age, I think."
    "F-four-and-tw-twenty."
    "Then mayhap a bit old for his tastes."
    "You are un-k-kind," she said. "T-to b-both of us."
    He merely grunted. There were other questions he meant to put to her, but even in his current state of mind he was able to recognize the unfairness of it. She was in danger of sinking her teeth into her tongue for all the chattering she was doing. The least he could do was warm her up before he continued his interrogation. If he were fortunate, she would simply spill the whole of her sordid tale, and he would not have to rouse himself to make further inquiry.
    The hack slowed, and West looked out. There was a lantern lighted outside the entrance to his town house, but at every window there was darkness. The servants were all abed, he realized. Even his valet must have decided he meant to stay from home tonight, for Finch could usually be counted on to greet him, no matter the hour.
    The residence was red brick, trimmed in white, and of a middling size for this section of the West End. It had not the imposing presence of his friends' homes, but then until two days ago he had not had their deep pockets. His money had come from shrewd investments and enterprise, and while his wealth could not match that of Northam, Southerton, or Eastlyn, he marked himself as comfortable and wanted for nothing materially. Now, he supposed, he would be expected to move to a larger home, more befitting of his title and fortune. The ton would be in anticipation of his entertaining. There would be callers and hangers-on. It was all too depressing for words.
    "Have w-we n-not arrived?"
    For a moment West had forgotten he was not alone. He glanced in her direction, taking her measure again, wondering what trouble he was bringing down on his head by inviting her inside. It really didn't matter, he decided, because he was determined to do it anyway. "We have," he said. "We have indeed."
    He opened the door and alighted, then turned to her and extended his hand. It took her some time to extricate her limbs from under his greatcoat, and his patience was sorely tested. She accepted his help and made only a small sound of protest when he lifted her by the waist and set her on the ground.
    West retrieved his hat and her mantle from inside the hack, then paid the driver and waved him off. He started up the walk and was halfway to the door when he realized she was not following him. Expecting to find her standing, forlorn and fogbound, at the street side, he was taken aback to discover she was stooped over like the veriest crone and rooting around in his hedgerow.
    "There are several fireplaces inside where you can warm yourself," he said. "No need to burrow here."
    Miss Ashby made no reply. She stayed exactly as she was for several moments before standing suddenly to reveal a large, carpeted valise clutched in her arms.
    "Ah," West said, understanding. "You hid it there in anticipation of your return."
    "You are very cl-clever."
    He did not miss the faint sarcasm that edged her tone. "And you are very c-cold." Her mouth snapped shut, and West grinned. He turned and sprinted up the walk.
    Once inside, he tossed his hat and her cloak on a table to the right of the door and lighted a candlestick before Miss Ashby stepped over the threshold. He relieved her of the valise, setting it down beside the table. It was not as heavy as it appeared when she dragged it from the hedgerow, and he decided she either had very few worldly goods or was not in expectation of remaining long in London. "This way." He saw her fingers move to the buttons of his greatcoat and he shook his head.