Maggie MacKeever by Sweet Vixen Read Free Book Online Page A

replied Tess. That this brusqueness was due to a painful twisting of her lame ankle, she did not explain. “I am hardly like to condemn you for the heartlessness of your conduct, child.” With that she turned away, leaning heavily on the mended cane.
    Clio’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Laboring under a strong sense of ill usage, she followed her sister to the double front doors. Delphine, who had preceded them, lifted one of the heavy knockers, fashioned like lions, and let it fall. They were admitted into an entryway, bright with Indian red tiles set in purely classical patterns, and left there to cool their heels.
    “Clio!” said the countess, a trifle acerbically, “you did inform the Duchess of Bellamy of our intended arrival?”
    “Of course.” Clio gazed at the splendor of her surroundings with delight. Then her jaw fell. “Tess! I quite forgot to inform her that you were coming, too!”
    What Lady Tess might have replied remains unknown; the entryway was invaded at that moment by a small boy, an impish-looking child of perhaps ten years with a most impressive nose, and a huge dog, obviously of dubious parentage, a positive mountain of multicolored hair and uncoordinated parts.
    “You must be my cousin!” announced the lad and with grubby fingers clutched Clio’s arm. She regarded him with fascinated horror. “I’m Viscount Wyncliffe. You may call me Evelyn!”
    Tess, who had a fondness for precocious little boys, might have interrupted at that point since Clio looked to be on her verge of histrionics, had not the dog, sensing an animal lover, chosen to make known his approval of her. Tess was fragile of build and he was not; in the energy of his greeting, he knocked her to the floor.
    “Nidget!” cried Evelyn, and rushed across the hallway to tug ineffectually at the beast, which was joyously saluting Tess’s face. “I am dreadfully sorry, ma’am! Nidget has no manners but I am teaching him. He must like you very much to behave so! I hope you aren’t hurt?”
    “I don’t know,” gasped Tess. The dog’s massive front paws were planted firmly on her ribs. “Do you think you might induce the monster to get off me?”
    “I think so,” replied Evelyn cautiously, pulling on one large canine ear, and consequently buffeted mightily by a frantically wagging tail.
    “What the deuce is this?” inquired a calm masculine voice. “Evelyn, if you do not remove that confounded dog immediately, I will have him destroyed.” While Evelyn might have realized the emptiness of this dire threat, Nidget did not. Cowed, he slunk away.
    With a deep breath of relief, Tess struggled to her knees. A hand was placed beneath her elbow. “Allow me to assist you,” offered the helpful gentleman, and Tess looked up into a pleasant, if somewhat detached, face. It was easy to guess that this was Evelyn’s father; they shared not only The Nose but the same dark eyes.
    “Thank you.” She availed herself of his support.
    “I hope that wretched dog has not injured you?” he inquired, in tones of the most polite, and with a look of total unconcern.
    “No.” Tess was chagrined, not by his patent disinterest, but that she must ask his further aid. “If I might have my cane?”
    This simple request procured for her the gentleman’s immediate attention. He glanced at her as if seeing her for the first time, then looked about him for the desired article. It lay some way across the tiled floor, and beside it a small book. Though such menial errands were clearly not what he was accustomed to, he fetched them both, and returned them to Tess with a raised brow. “Chateaubriand?” he murmured. “Heavy reading for a young lady, surely?”
    Tess rewarded this absurdity with a level gaze from her clear blue-green eyes. “Poppycock!” said she.
    Lucille hovered in the doorway. It had been a day so distressing, as were most of Lucille’s days, that she devoutly wished herself in a nunnery. “Maman is waiting,” she