My Lady Mischief by Kathy Carmichael Read Free Book Online Page A

her coppery hair and tied just above her trim waist. A matching parure of semiprecious stones encircled her wrist and neck. All in all, she was the perfect image of a marriage-mart miss. Definitely not the type of woman with whom he wished to become entangled. So why did the blood pound in his veins whenever she was near?
    However could he have believed her a lightskirt? The idea was so foolish as to make him doubt his sanity. However, the earl's earlier comments about his daughter had led Hart to believe her a very young girl. He'd never considered the possibility that Thea and Steyne's little dumpling, Lady Althea, could be one and the same. Lady Althea was no schoolroom miss.
    His eyes narrowed as a new thought occurred to him. Had she thought to trap him in a compromising situation? Far sharper ladies than she had tried and failed. This little minx could be trouble. He dismissed the niggling thought that the only trouble thus far had been created by his own fantasy.
    Accordingly, he was most attentive to her throughout dinner, making certain she was offered the choicest meats and fruit. She'd not responded to much before the announcement by Squire Fossbinder of the betrothal of his son to Miss Rawlings.
    From that moment, Lady Althea's behavior had changed. She'd ignored him before, now she devoted lavish attention on him. Was she attempting to make Mr. Fossbinder jealous? There was some history here and he resolved to learn all he could of the matter.
    Until the opportunity presented itself, he relaxed and leaned back to enjoy her attentions.
    She was a cunning minx, flirting outrageously with him like the most experienced of London coquettes while peeping at Mr. Fossbinder to check his reaction. In return, that gentleman directed scowls at each of them. Hart bit back a laugh. What a marvelous triangle it was. Yes, he'd have to learn more.
    After dinner, Miss Mimms signaled it was time for the ladies to leave the table.
    During the interval over port, Mr. Fossbinder continued to glare at him. Blessedly soon, Steyne suggested joining the ladies in the music room and Hart willingly complied.
    The music room was large enough to comfortably hold far more than their number. At the head of the room sat a spinet with chairs scattered nearby. Steyne prevailed upon Miss Mimms to play.
    Squire Fossbinder called out, in an overly jovial voice, "Too bad Lady Althea cannot carry a tune, Steyne. I'm certain that my future daughter will happily remedy the situation. Emma, won't you honor us with a song or two?"
    Miss Rawlings colored then directed a timorous glance at Lady Althea, who waved her on. She made her way to the spinet and Hart's heart sank. Could a night ever be more dull? Some milk-and-water miss caroling them with songs he'd rather forget?
    He had to admit, though, that Miss Mimms was a talented pianist and she played simple country airs that Miss Rawlings could easily sing. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Lady Althea placing a hand to her forehead. He grinned. Perhaps she was a bit cast away. He watched as she slipped through the curtains which hid glass-paned doors opening out on the grounds.
    After quickly pouring two cups of tea, he turned to join her. Just ahead, he spied Mr. Fossbinder exit as well. More and more interesting. As unobtrusively as possible, he made for the game room, which had a door leading out onto the same terrace. Balancing the teacups, he quietly slipped outside.
    It took a moment for his eyes to adjust as clouds hindered the moonlight. He heard Mr. Fossbinder say, "I know you will wish me happy, Thea."
    Hart found himself scowling when Fossbinder took her hands. His scowl became more intense at Lady Althea's reply. "But will you be happy with this? With Emma?"
    "I know you wish it could be otherwise," answered Fossbinder with what Hart considered a melodramatic air. "But, Thea, it cannot be. It never was my intention to hurt you, for in hurting you, I've irrevocably hurt myself."
    When the