The Redemption of a Rogue (Dark Regency Book 2) by Chasity Bowlin Read Free Book Online

walls of Blagdon Hall. So, he was dressed and eagerly awaiting her presence at dinner that evening. Mrs. Wolcot had apparently taken him into her good graces with the return of her mistress to the house, and had spent the afternoon in the village obtaining supplies. It was nice to know she had no intention of allowing him to starve.
    Michael had decided that afternoon that pressing Abigail further would more than likely sabotage any progress he had made. Of course, he had only a passing acquaintance with good intentions, so whether or not he would actually resist the sweet temptation of her lips remained to be seen. What he knew that he did want from her was information. He wanted know about the woman he had seen on the stairs, and he wanted to know about the torches in the woods at midnight.
    With that in mind, he turned as the doors opened, and Abbi stepped into the dining room. Her hair was again dressed severely, in an intricate knot of braids. Given the wealth of it she possessed and the lack of a maid, it was a sensible solution. Her gown was simple white muslin with a modest neckline. It mattered little what she wore, for he had a vivid imagination and could easily envision the lush bounty hidden beneath.
    “Good evening,” he said.
    “My lord,” she replied, keeping her voice cool.
    “Michael,” he corrected. “You should call me Michael.”
    For a moment, she looked mutinous, then with a slight nod, replied,“Very well.”
    He noted that she did not invite him to use the same level of familiarity, but he took it anyway. “Tell me about the ghosts of Blagdon Hall, Abigail.”
    There were no footmen, only Mrs. Wolcot, and her brother remained on as family retainers. Abbi held her breath as Michael assisted her with her chair, but he didn’t touch her. Both relieved and strangely disappointed; she replied, “There is only one ghost at Blagdon Hall. Her identity is unknown, but she’s referred to as the Gray Lady.”
    He allowed that bit of news to settle into his mind, recalling the events of the previous night. “Is she generally seen on the stairs or does she make her presence known throughout the hall?”
    Abigail paused with the wine halfway to her lips. “You’ve seen her? When did you see her?”
    “Last night. I had come down for a brandy. When I was returning to my room, she was standing near the top of the stairs,” Michael said it breezily, as if it was common place to discuss otherworldly visitors. Of course, given his friendship with the Duke and Duchess of Briarleigh, it had become the norm.
    Abbi was reeling. The Gray Lady only showed herself in times of extreme danger, and even then, only to members of the family. Her appearing before Michael was tantamount to a blessing, and that was not something she had anticipated. “What did she say?”
    “She didn’t speak… She simply pointed to the window. When I looked out, there were torches burning in the woods. A group of people meeting in the woods in the dark of night is typically an ill tiding.”
    “I can’t imagine there would be a need to meet at such an ungodly hour if the meeting wasn’t of a nefarious nature, but I’ve heard nothing untoward. Given Lavinia’s reputation in the community, any events that I have been invited to were likely not ones that I wished to attend.”
    That went without saying; he thought. “Is there more information about the Gray Lady?”
    “Yes, there is a book in the library that has an account of local legends, and she is mentioned.”
    Unable to resist, Michael said, “Perhaps you could read it to me as a bedtime story.”
    His tone was playful, but Abbi had no doubt that if she agreed to accompany him to his room, reading would be the last thing that occurred. “Perhaps another time,” she said.
    Michael sipped his wine. “Most definitely.”
    Dinner continued in the same vein. The verbal thrust and parry was enticing enough in its own way. He liked that she had a quick wit, and he liked