Susan Carroll by Masquerade Read Free Book Online Page A

anything he thinks will sell."
But inwardly Phaedra squirmed in the face of Gilly's disapproval.
Maybe she had gone too far in her remarks about Varnais. But she
hoped that her writing would make society, and especially her own
grandfather, regard the man a little more warily.
    Gilly tossed the sheets back down upon the
desk. "I'm surprised at you, Fae, that's all. Your pamphlets have
been full of masterful writing, about fine, important issues. It's
that proud of you, I've been. This is common gossip."
    Phaedra gave an affected shrug, although she
felt the sting of his criticism keenly. She knew that her earlier
writings had been much better. Her secret career as Robin
Goodfellow had begun some months before Ewan's death. Then she had
written stirring condemnations of the king and his ministers for
their shortsighted dealings with both the Americans and the Irish.
Her impassioned words had supported the American colonists in their
war for independence. She had cried out for justice for the
beleaguered Irish Catholics, whose livelihood was being stolen by
greedy English landlords. All her writings had been heartfelt
because they mirrored her own despair, her own yearning for freedom
from a marriage that had become a bondage.
    She responded bitterly to Gilly. "I am sorry
you disapprove of my 'common gossip.' But I had not much choice,
thanks to Grandfather and his good friend the marquis. It is not
easy to write about fine, important matters from exile in Bath. You
know I only intended to make a brief holiday when I left town after
Christmas, not to find myself banned for the rest of my days."
    "But you cannot blame Varnais for that. You
are an independent woman now. You can come and go as you
please."
    "What? With my grandfather controlling the
purse strings of the meager pittance Ewan left me? I had barely
enough pocket money to get to London on the stage. When Grandfather
finds me returned, he may well fling me into the street.”
    The stern expression which sat so ill on
Gilly's good-humored face softened. "Well, we can become highwaymen
as we'd always planned. How have you managed to escape the jaws of
the old crocodile thus far?"
    "He was out when I arrived last night. By now
I expect his beloved housekeeper has informed him of my return."
Phaedra grimaced. The mere prospect of a confrontation with her
grandfather left her feeling deflated. She crossed the room and
began to fold the sheets of her essay.
    "If you don't wish to deliver this for me, I
understand. But the sad truth is, Gilly, that I rather need the
money."
    "Whist now. Did I ever say I wouldn't take
it? You could malign the good Saint Patrick himself, and I'd stand
by you to the end." Gilly tugged the manuscript from her hand and
tucked it inside his waistcoat.
    When she deposited a grateful kiss upon his
cheek, he groused, " All I say is, heaven deliver you if your
grandfather ever suspects that you are the rascally Robin
Goodfellow tweaking the king's nose." Gilly gave a short hoot of
laughter. "Come to think on it, it is more likely myself that'll be
suspected. I think Jessym half does already. Belike one day I'll
find your marquis coming after me with his wicked sword."
    "I would never let it come to that," Phaedra
vowed earnestly. "If you were ever accused of being Robin
Goodfellow, I would-"
    She broke off, interrupted by a high-pitched
scream.
    "What the devil is that?" Gilly asked.
    "I don't know," Phaedra said, looking up
fearfully at the ceiling above them. "But I think it is coming from
the direction of my garret."
    Lifting her skirts, she dashed out of the
library, with Gilly hard on her heels. Seeking out the backstairs,
she took the risers two at a time, not pausing for breath until she
reached the small chamber at the very top of the house.
    The scream had not been repeated, but when
Phaedra stood outside the door to her private sanctum, she could
hear the sound of muffled sobbing and above it, a steady thwack,
like a poker being pounded