Lady Rogue by Suzanne Enoch Read Free Book Online Page A

me who you were.”
    The pale one ran a hand through short blond hair and finally offered a faint smile. “Gads, what manners. That is Reginald Hanshaw, Lord Hanshaw for long, Reg for short.”
    “I’m Francis Henning, Francis for any occasion,” the short, dark one offered, sticking out his hand. Kit shook it, and he jabbed a finger in the direction of their third companion. “And that’s Viscount Devlin. Augustus, to those who can tolerate him. He can be thoroughly unpleasant, you know.”
    “Only to my friends,” the viscount replied with a slight nod.
    “Devlin,” Kit responded, taking the specter’s hand. She had thought it would be cold, and was surprised to note the grip was both warm and strong. “Christian Riley, Kit for short.”
    “Funny, Alex never said he was related to the Irish,” Reg commented with a glance at Augustus, motioning Kit to join them.
    “I shouldn’t,” she said, feigning reluctance, and secretly ecstatic. Such a gaggle of English lords could gain her access to far more places than she could hope to enter on her own.
    “Oh, do come,” Lord Devlin cajoled. “We shall make Reg buy.”
    She smiled, rather charmed by the three of them despite herself. It seemed her father’s view of the titled English was more grim than was strictly accurate. “All right.”
    “Heavens.” Reg chuckled. “Even strangers are taking advantage of me now.”
    “It’s so easy, don’t you know,” the viscount agreed, leading the way out the door.
    “Mr. Riley,” Wenton said, stepping forward, “I do not think the earl would approve.”
    “Then he should have provided me with better entertainment,” Kit replied flatly.
    “Hear, hear,” Devlin applauded.
    With a defiant look at the butler, Kit grabbed her old, stained greatcoat and stepped into the rainy streets of Mayfair.
     
    “Where in damnation have you been?”
    Kit started and nearly dropped the drenched greatcoat she was handing to Wenton. The Earl of Everton stood just inside the foyer. He was only half dressed, his shirttail untucked and his cravat smashed in one hand. In the dimness of the hallway his eyes glinted at her, piercing and dark as a demon’s. No aloof, cynical noble tonight. “Out,” she returned, giving the butler her hat and attempting to ignore the angry, impelling presence behind her.
    “Out.” He turned away. “Why don’t you join me in the library for a moment, cousin?” he said over his shoulder, drawing out the last word as though it gave him some sort of authority over her.
    “Go to the devil,” she answered, annoyed at his presumption. She gave her damp boots a last stomp. “‘Out’ was good enough for you, yesterday.”
    For a heartbeat he froze. Then, with surprising swiftness, he strode forward and grabbed her by the back of the collar.
    “Let me go!” she demanded, startled, and kicked.
    He grunted as her boot made contact with his leg, then shifted his grip and grabbed another handful of coat. Unmindful of her struggling, he dragged her into the library. She hit him, and he grabbed her wrist with fingers as strong as a vise. Kicking the door shut with one foot, he then shoved her away from him and into a chair.
    She sprang to her feet again. “You lout!” she yelled, her heartbeat wild. “Don’t you touch me!”
    “That’s twice you’ve gone out when I’ve told you not to,” he snapped, rubbing at his shoulder where her fist had connected. Blast it, she had been aiming for his jaw. “You will not defy me again!”
    “So you’re allowed to go about with your cronies, and I have to stay here like some sort of prisoner?” she protested, shrugging her coat back into place.
    “You informed me that your father wished you kept safe…and pure,” he returned hotly, taking a long step toward her. “If you’ve decided to change the rules, then don’t expect me to abide by them either, chit. Is that clear?”
    His expression made it quite obvious what he was referring to. “The