Last Night's Scandal by Loretta Chase Read Free Book Online

thrashing somebody.”
    He offered his bruised and dirty hand to help her keep her balance on the narrow carriage step. She looked down at his hand and raised an eyebrow.
    “Squeamish?” he said.
    “Not likely,” she said. “I was thinking that’s going to hurt later.”
    “It was worth it,” he said.
    Men, she thought.
    She took his hand, climbed into the carriage, and settled onto her seat. Bailey followed and took the seat opposite.
    “I’m not sure the fun of beating Belder will be worth the price,” she said.
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    “I’m used to black eyes and sore jaws,” he said.
    “That isn’t what I meant,” she said. “Your parents won’t be pleased when they hear about it.”
    He shrugged.
    “You’d better let me drive you home,” she said.
    He shook his head. “It’s out of your way. Nichols will be along in a minute, as soon as he recovers my hat.”
    The slim valet hurried toward them at that moment, brushing at Lisle’s hat with his handkerchief.
    Bailey gave Lisle’s handsome manservant a sharp glance, and sniffed disdainfully. “We’
    d better go straight home, miss,” she said.
    “She’s right,” Lisle said. “It won’t be long before all of London hears how you beat Belder with your umbrella. You’ll want to be at home before the news arrives, so you can shape the tale to suit you.”
    It wouldn’t matter what version of the story Olivia gave her parents. They were growing tired of the scandals. Grandmama and Grandpapa Hargate would have something to say, too, and that wouldn’t be pleasant. They thought it was long past time she was married. She needed a husband and children to settle her, they believed. They’d settled all their children satisfactorily. But their offspring were all men, and they weren’t in the least like her. No one was like her, except other Dreadful DeLuceys: restless, untrustworthy creatures.
    If she married, her life would narrow down to wifehood and motherhood, and she’d spend the years slowly suffocating. She’d never do anything truly interesting, ever again. Certainly, she’d never have the great adventures she’d always dreamed of.
    Not that she had much hope of any at present, in a society bound by increasingly strict rules.
    But so long as she was nobody’s wife—and so long as Great-Grandmama was alive, to stand up to the others for her—Olivia had a measure of freedom, at least.
    She wouldn’t give that up until she had absolutely no other choice.
    “Join us for dinner,” she told Lisle. “We can talk then.”
    “I reckon I’d better wash first,” he said.
    He grinned at her, looking for a moment like a grubby schoolboy, and reminding her of the schoolboy who’d pummeled Nat Diggerby and played the part of her loyal squire en route to Bristol.
    The grin, combined with the recollection, set things fluttering inside her. “I reckon you’d better,” she said.
    He closed the carriage door.
    She sat back in her seat, so that she wouldn’t be tempted to look out of the window and watch him walk away.
    She felt the carriage bounce slightly as the footmen leapt up to their places. One of them rapped on the carriage roof, and the vehicle lurched into motion.
    After a minute or two, Bailey said, “Miss, you’ve still got his lordship’s handkerchief.” Olivia looked down at it. She’d have it laundered, then add it to her collection. The glove Page 26
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    of her right hand concealed the scarab he’d sent her long ago. She’d had it made into a ring, which she wore constantly. There were his letters as well, too few of them: one for every half dozen of hers.
    She had his friendship and every one of his letters. She had the trinkets he’d sent her and odd, rubbishy remembrances she’d collected. That, she knew, was as much as anyone would ever get from him. He’d given