To Love a Wicked Scoundrel by Anabelle Bryant Read Free Book Online Page B

collected the bouquet. Isabelle objected and Janie rushed to her side at once.
    ‘Indeed, that was not well done of you. I mean to purchase those. May I have them please?’ Isabelle hoped the servant would do the sensible thing and hand her the flowers under discussion. He already held several other selections in his over laden arms.
    ‘I am sorry but I cannot do that. My master made it clear I was to purchase dahlias this morning. It is unfortunate for you that I acquired the last bunch.’
    Janie interceded, assuming the man would hear reason from a fellow servant, but it proved to no avail. The man refused to relinquish the dahlias no matter the discussion presented. Then, in an unexpected gesture, he offered Janie a wink at the conclusion of the exchange.
    ‘Well, there is nothing for it.’ Disappointment coloured Isabelle’s words. ‘I will simply purchase dahlias another day.’ She turned towards the rude servant as he paid for his purchase and watched him brush past and walk to the curb. ‘Apparently for some, impertinence is a requirement for service. I feel sorry for the fool who hired him into the household.’
    Her words faded as a large coach pulled to the end of the roadway and the detestable little man who had stolen her dahlias hopped onto the driver’s box next to the coachman. The vehicle sped away with nothing more than the blur of revolving red wheels left in its dusty wake. Isabelle stared after it for several breaths, a vibrant complaint stalled on her tongue.
    Lily was waiting at the front window when she returned. Her hair was slightly mussed from an impromptu nap, her skin flushed with the warmth of sleep, as if she’d fallen asleep while awaiting Isabelle’s return. Delighted with her daisies, but eager to venture into Grosvenor’s Square, Lily prodded Isabelle out the door promptly. The weather was uncommonly mild and Isabelle strolled down one of the parterre’s many paths, while Lily darted back and forth investigating leaves, pebbles and bits of nature. The child held her complete attention and exemplified childhood innocence combined with an inquisitive intelligent mind. The simple awareness brought Isabelle joy and reaffirmed her vow that Lily’s youth be filled with pleasantness. A pang of dismay shadowed the thought and she forced away the intrusive remembrance of her father.
    They walked the length of a flourishing rose garden and exited the path near the corner of Park Lane, where a small group of pedestrians huddled near the curb and watched something of interest in the middle of the roadway. Lily ran ahead and Isabelle followed swiftly after.
    They came upon an interesting scene unfolding in the centre of the street. Isabelle’s brows climbed as she spied a small group of women tittering with excitement near the curb. The ladies were stationed across from Lord Highborough’s grand townhouse. Perhaps the pretentious gawkers hoped to get a glimpse of the infamous rakehell at a window or exiting down his front steps. Good heavens, one would think Prinny was in town. She rolled her eyes and huffed out a short breath.
    Loud voices returned her attention to the roadway and as she held Lily’s hand in a firm grip, she surveyed two carriages stopped in the middle of the thoroughfare where they were causing a tangle of traffic. The smaller coach, ornate and painted a glossy white, contained several small faces that peered from the tiny box window as if the passengers were equally as anxious to see what occurred outside. Among them was Lady Newby’s. The other carriage was
his.
The red wheels were unmistakable, even though the rude servant and outrider from Covent Garden remained on the driver’s box. Lady Newby’s driver seemed to have inadvertently hitched the coach’s wheels fast and tight with Lord Highborough’s carriage as they attempted to avoid the same rut in the middle of Park Lane. A smug smile traced her lips as she watched all three servants attempt to dislodge the