Duchess 02 - Surprising Lord Jack by Sally Mackenzie Read Free Book Online Page A

worry.”
    “Splendid. Come along, Francis.”
    Jack grasped her arm firmly as they started down Hart Street. “Stay close. As I said, this isn’t the country.”
    It certainly wasn’t. She would have fished her handkerchief out of her pocket and held it to her nose if it wouldn’t have looked too effeminate. Instead she took shallow breaths through her mouth. Thank God it was cold. She’d never have borne the stench in the heat of the summer. She picked her way around the rotting vegetables and horse droppings and a greenish-brown, gelatinous mound she didn’t want to examine too closely.
    “Hooo, gents. Want some fun?” an old woman called from a doorway. The woman’s face was painted and her bodice was pulled so low everyone could see her drooping—
    Good God, had she rouged her nipples? They were shriveled up into hard points. She must be freezing. Why wasn’t she wearing a coat?
    Well, yes, it was obvious why she wasn’t wearing a coat, but she was very much fooling herself if she thought displaying her ancient charms would entice a man—
    Jack stepped in front of Frances, blocking her view. “Belinda! What are you doing here?”
    Good heavens, did the rake consort even with poor, broken-down whores like this one?
    Frances’s stomach twisted. She was in danger of adding to the filth on the walkway. She hadn’t thought any man would take this woman up on her offer. Surely Lord Jack could do much better. But what did she know? Apparently a rake only cared that his companion was female.
    The woman made a noise that sounded like a cross between a curse and a squeak of fear. “Lord Jack! I didn’t recognize ye.”
    “Because you aren’t wearing your spectacles. Have you lost them again?”
    “Maybe.”
    Jack sighed and shook his head. “I’ll get you another pair. Now tell me, why aren’t you at the Golden Leg?” A note of frustration had joined the anger in his voice. “You promised to stop working the streets after I persuaded them to take you on as a scullery maid.”
    This was certainly an odd conversation for a rake to be having with a whore. Well, it wasn’t her concern. Now that she knew she was heading in the right direction, she could make a dash for Frederick’s boardinghouse while Jack’s attention was focused elsewhere.
    Frances looked around. Ah, for once a bit of luck—the place was just across the street and down a few doors. This was her golden opportunity.
    She moved quickly and quietly.
     
     
    Belinda shrugged. “This is easier work, milord, and it pays better.”
    “And?” He knew Belinda. There was more to the tale.
    She looked back toward the Nag’s Head as if she might flee in that direction. “And I was caught ’elping a gent at the inn, if ye must know. They tossed me out.”
    Jack expelled a long breath. He knew what “helping” meant—she’d been caught doing some sort of sexual favor.
    “Blast it all, Belinda, we’ve talked about this. You can’t be ‘helping’ gentlemen.” He struggled for control. He must remember Belinda had not had the advantages he’d had growing up. She didn’t think like he did. None of the denizens of Covent Garden did. If they got an opportunity to earn a bit of money—or to steal it—they took it. They lived in the moment with no thought of the future.
    Perhaps because so many of them had very little future.
    The children—he had more luck with the children, but even they often sank back into the desperation of poverty and crime.
    It was times like these when he thought seriously of giving up and just being the careless, thoughtless, irresponsible fellow he’d been before he’d stumbled over his first abandoned baby right after Ned’s son had died in childbirth. “I should find you work in a convent.”
    If he wasn’t so frustrated, the look of horror that settled over Belinda’s features would be amusing.
    “Not a convent , milord.” A cold wind whistled down the narrow street, and she shivered, hugging herself