The Runaway Countess by Leigh LaValle Read Free Book Online Page B

meadow.
    The four men were still there, talking in low tones. They fell silent at once.
    “Mount up,” Trent commanded. They jumped to obey.
    Mazie dragged her feet to her mare and could not refuse Trent’s touch as he assisted her atop her horse. In an instant, he was on his mount and grabbing the reins from her hands. He led her horse the entire way back to his estate.
    All too soon, Giltbrook Hall loomed before them in its yellow sandstone glory. They rode around to the tidy stables and the man at the center of her thoughts did not look at her as he dismounted and talked with the stable master.
    Mazie let a groom help her down then stepped toward the main estate. A swirl of light blue fabric flashed in the corner of her attention, but she did not think to turn. Perhaps she could have avoided her own downfall had she thought to look.
    “I say!” A soft, feminine voice filled the small yard. “Lady Margaret?”
    Mazie stopped cold, a wild orchestra of dread tuning its strings in her belly.
    “Lady Margaret, is that you?”
    Could she run? Deny it? The French ruse wouldn’t work. Damn.
    Mazie turned toward the surprised voice and nearly groaned. There was no way out now.
    “Lady Catherine. How nice to see you again.”

Chapter Four
    “This only is denied to God: the power to undo the past.” Agathon
    Lady Margaret! Lady Margaret! Trent whipped around and stared across the sunlit stableyard. Certainly he had misheard. Certainly his sister had confused Mazie for someone else.
    He thought Cat was smiling beneath the wide brim of her bonnet as she approached Mazie. And Mazie, well, she had turned toward Cat but still pointed her feet away.
    Impossible. He forced an exhale. It was impossible that his sister knew his captive, much less that Mazie was a lady . He waited for the awkward moment when Cat realized her mistake.
    But his captive shifted her feet and curtsied, her movements slow and deliberate. “Lady Catherine, a pleasure to see you again.”
    Mazie’s voice floated across the stableyard and slammed into his gut. His head snapped back from the impact.
    She had swindled his sister.
    Instinct propelled him forward. His boots crunched over the graveled drive as he headed toward the women. Mazie was a thief and a liar. She had no right to look at his sister much less address her intimately.
    What had she done, pretended to be an aristocrat as part of some scheme?
    Hell. She would never speak to Cat again. In fact, she would never speak to anyone again without his explicit permission.
    A lady. What idiocy.
    Cat looked over as he approached, indeed smiling, but her expression fell. “Trent, what happened? Your face is bleeding.” She stepped forward, took his chin in her hand and turned his head. “If I did not know you better I’d think you’d been in a brawl.”
    Ah, so his face looked as bad as it felt. He glared at Mazie. Her countenance pale, she averted her eyes from his.
    “It’s a small scratch,” he assured, but his growled tone belied his words. He swallowed his anger, such a distasteful emotion, and leaned down to kiss Cat’s cheek. “I was riding too fast through the forest.”
    Cat pressed her lips closed like she did not believe him, but for once she let the matter drop. “I did not know you had a houseguest, but then, you failed to inform me you were coming to Radford at all. Not that I am complaining. You should visit more often.”
    “I’m sorry I did not write to you sooner.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the scratches on his face. The cloth came back bloodied. The hellion, she would regret this. “I’m here on an unfortunate bit of business.”
    Cat’s mouth formed an expressive O, and she shifted her curious blue eyes back to Mazie.
    He also glanced at his houseguest . She held her chin raised at an overly tilted angle and her eyes flitted around, giving the distinct impression that she wanted to fly away. Something worried her. The truth, perhaps.
    “I