Maggie MacKeever by Quin Read Free Book Online Page A

and trying to impose some order on her chaotic thoughts: her cousin wished to kill her; Quin wished to ravish her for all the wrong reasons; and she couldn’t say which circumstance disturbed her more. Seated across the table from her, Beau Loversall was enjoying a hearty meal of kippers and eggs.
    Kate stiffened as Quin entered the room. Beau made a welcoming gesture with his fork.
    Quin moved to the sideboard. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence, Beau? Another early morning ride?”
    He was going to pretend nothing had happened between them, Kate decided. Well, to be fair, nothing had happened, save that Quin had rubbed her feet and then tried to seduce her, but of course she hadn’t let him, and damned if she didn’t want to dissolve into tears.
    “Mrs. Thwaite has become rather too demanding. I’m letting her cool her heels. Since Mrs. Ormsby is currently engaged with her spouse, I find myself at loose ends.” Beau glanced at Kate. “ Does absence make the heart grow fonder, do you think?”
    ‘Fonder’ didn’t come near describing the condition of Kate’s heart, which from one moment to the next could not decide whether to break or burst. “I daresay it depends on the situation. A case could as easily be made for ‘out of sight, out of mind’.”
    “There’s a pretty setdown.” Quin pulled out a chair. “I am uncertain which of us it was intended for. Speaking of setdowns, how proceeds your pursuit of the divine Miss Fletcher?” He, too, glanced at Kate. “‘ Divine’ being Beau’s word, not mine.”
    “You must need spectacles,” said Beau. “Only a man with failing vision would deny Miss Fletcher is sublime.”
    “Divine, sublime, perceptive.” Quin reached for the coffee urn. “Beau’s pursuit of the lady isn’t proceeding apace.”
     “So it may seem on the surface,” Beau admitted. “However, was I a betting man—”
    “Are you not?” Kate inquired.
    Quin poured coffee into a cup. “Beau prefers to wager on the game of hearts. Females afford him a more gratifying return on the investment of his funds than do cards and dice. That is, they once did. Alas, how the mighty are fallen. Never did I think to see the day when Beau Loversall dangled at an opera dancer’s slipper strings.”
    “I am not dangling!” Beau insisted.
    “Of course you’re not,” soothed Kate, and nudged the jam pot beyond his reach.
    “Of course he is,” Quin differed. “However, I have a solution to his predicament that will serve us all.”
    Beau abandoned his kippers. “Why is it I mistrust your intentions? I am not usually the suspicious sort.”
    “Perhaps,” suggested Quin, “you are more intelligent than you generally admit. Kate can’t keep hiding in her bedchamber. We need an explanation for her presence here.”
     Kate suspected she might be perfectly content remaining unseen in her chamber. As for her presence, she couldn’t explain it satisfactorily herself. Any female with a grain of sense would take her chances with murderous relatives rather than risk her heart with Quin.
    How often, she wondered, did he find uninvited women hiding in his bed?
    What would he do if she slipped between his sheets?
    Kate pushed away her cup. Most likely, he would shove her out onto the floor. Where Edmund would be waiting to strangle her. At least then the business would be done.
    “Since when does the Black Baron need to provide explanations?” Beau asked. “Your past relationship is reason enough.”
    “You alone are aware of our past relationship.” Quin reached for the butter dish. “I prefer it remains that way.”
    Of course he did, thought Kate. “You and Liliane.”
    Beau looked startled. “Liliane?”
    “She was attempting to ravish Quin. I came to his defense.”
    “Never did I think to see the day,” Beau murmured ironically. “Far be it from me to belabor the obvious, but in that case the cat must be well out of the bag.”
    “So long as I supply the cat with