His Lady Mistress by Elizabeth Rolls Read Free Book Online

reference she was helpless.
    The door opened abruptly and a tall, familiar figure whipped into the room, shutting the door with a speed only equalled by the silence with which he managed the feat. He spoke not a word, but looked around wildly.
    Verity blinked as Lord Blakehurst made for the large cupboard in the corner. The doors stood wide and to her utter amazement he slipped into the corner behind the door. Still without a word.
    ‘Umm…my lord…’
    He glared at her from his hiding place. ‘Ssshhh!’
    Returning the glare with interest, Verity asked politely, ‘And your boots, my lord?’
    ‘My…?’ He looked down. ‘Oh, damn!’ His boots were clearly visible beneath the door. ‘Quick. Shove that mending basket in front, girl.’
    Verity obliged, wondering what could have sent one of the wealthiest peers in the realm scuttling for cover like a startled coney.

    A moment later she had her answer. The door opened and Lady Moncrieff looked in.
    ‘Is his lordship about, wench?’
    Verity couldn’t help her eyes narrowing slightly. From her position she could see the lordship in question. And the very faint shake of his head.
    Blandly she answered in her best servant’s voice. ‘Oh, no, mum. The master went boatin’ wiv all the other quality. Do you need summat mending?’
    ‘Lord Blakehurst, girl!’
    Verity gritted her teeth. ‘Lord Blakehurst? Up here, mum? What would his lordship want wiv the likes of me?’
    The delicately curved lips curled. ‘Nothing, I dare say. You’ve little enough to recommend you!’
    The door shut with a snap and Verity muttered one pungent and graphic word more usually associated with the kennels.
    ‘Yes. Quite.’
    She spun around and met her unwanted companion’s smile as he emerged from behind the door. Heat surged across her cheeks. In her anger she’d forgotten his presence.
    ‘She was wrong, you know,’ he added conversationally.
    ‘Wrong?’
    ‘Wrong,’ he affirmed. ‘You have plenty to recommend you,’ he went on. ‘Brains for one thing. Your accent was inspired.’ The smile in his eyes deepened. ‘Thank you,’ he added.
    She resisted the urge to smile back and said shortly, ‘I think you’d better go.’ Before her lungs forgot how to function.
    His brows rose. ‘So soon? But I haven’t paid my debt to you.’
    Her breath seized. If he stayed…if anyone came in…‘There is no debt. You helped me. Please—you must go! If anyone finds you here…’ Her voice dried up at his smile.
    ‘They’ve all gone boating.’
    ‘And the servants—the other servants?’ she amended, remembering her role. ‘You think they won’t tattle?’ She grimaced. Most of them were only too pleased to have someone to look down upon. One or two were sorry for her, but the rest took their tone from their mistress.
    He grinned at her and pulled out a large handkerchief. And ripped it almost in half. ‘Our chaperon. I brought it along for mending.’
    She scowled at him. Drat the man! She would be in the most appalling scrape if they were caught and all she wanted to do was smile back!
    ‘No one would ever believe that the high and mighty Lord Blakehurst would be seen dead blowing his nose on a mended handkerchief!’ she snapped. And shut her eyes in horror. Was she mad? Meek little Selina wouldn’t have said that!
    An appreciative chuckle made her eyes snap open.
    ‘Not dead, no,’ he admitted with a grin. ‘That would be a bit much. But I do have a very saving disposition. Hangover from my army days. Ask my valet. He’ll tell you.’
    ‘Please, just go,’ she begged.
    He stared at her. ‘Miss…Miss…Selina, you’re not scared of me, are you? You don’t imagine for one moment that I have any…’ he hesitated ‘…that I would behave like Godfrey Faringdon towards you?’
    Verity gasped. ‘ You? Like Godfrey? Oh, no!’
    His gaze focused. ‘You seem very sure.’
    She caught herself up. ‘I…I…yes. Nothing about your reputation suggests that