What a Rogue Desires by Caroline Linden Read Free Book Online Page A

Crum’s old coats and socks. Vivian supposed Alice was sweet enough, but the sad truth was that Alice was simple, and would be lost without Crum.
    Crum would be no help to her, either. He was Flynn’s man, through and through. He was kind and patient with Alice, but that was it. Flynn must have decided tolerating Alice was a fair price to pay for Crum’s unwavering loyalty, because Flynn never said a word against Alice, even when he didn’t mind tearing into Simon or Vivian for the smallest thing. It was as if Crum and Flynn had made a pact that they would leave each other alone and blame any misfortune on the two Beecham brats. As everyone knew, the Beecham brats had no one else to turn to, and nowhere else to go.
    So it was only she and Simon, and her brother was more hindrance than help at times.
    She sighed, stuffing an extra fold of the thin blanket under her head. She hated sleeping on the floor. When she had reason to take a room at an inn, Vivian went to bed early and stayed in it as long as she could. Linens, even coarse, not-entirely-clean ones, on top of a mattress, even a scratchy, lumpy, straw-filled one, made for much better sleeping than a threadbare blanket and a hard floor. In her cottage, some day, Vivian would have a nice soft bed to sleep in, even if she had to eat nothing but oatcakes for a year to buy it.
    Across the room, Flynn grunted in his sleep, and Crum snored a little louder. Alice’s still face looked corpse-like in the wan moonlight. Vivian closed her eyes, hating it all. But how was she to get away from it? She’d been a thief for most of her life, and Simon had never known anything else. What could two thieves do besides steal?
     
    She set off early the next morning in her worn gray dress, with some of the valuables in her reticule. Flynn and Crum still snored away, although she knew they’d be at the local pub by noon, drinking away their shares. Alice handed her a cold oatcake with a shy smile before dragging the bucket out to the brook for water. Simon alone got up and walked her partway to the nearest coaching inn.
    “Be careful, Viv,” he said as they drew near the parting point. “That cove might put out a reward.”
    She smiled. “That’s why we sell it today, see? No pawnbroker in town will know today about anything stolen yesterday.”
    He frowned uncertainly. “I know. You’re quicker at this than me, for certain. Still…” His voice trailed off as he squinted into the rising sun, breaking over the trees. “I ought to start taking care of you now, not the other way around.”
    Vivian almost rolled her eyes with impatience. “We take care of each other, and ourselves,” she said firmly. “Now get on back and tend to your chores.” Simon had the care of the horses when they weren’t working. Vivian would take the dusty stage into town and back. Alice would cook. Flynn and Crum would sit on their fat arses all day and do nothing, or even worse, walk into town to drink away money that should last them a month or longer. Bloody fools.
    She squeezed her brother’s hand in farewell and continued into town. She counted out the coins for outside passage to London, readily telling her simple story to anyone who asked: she was a poor governess on holiday, going to visit her mother who was ill with consumption. By keeping her eyes downcast and her mouth shut, she wasn’t interesting enough to draw any notice, and arrived in London just after noon.
    She disembarked at the Elephant and Castle and made her way into London. Being back in the city always made her a bit edgy. She didn’t like it here, with a thousand people pressed close around her. It was loud and dirty in the city, at least the parts Vivian knew. She’d grown up here, but never missed it. She walked quickly with her head down, clutching her reticule tightly, until she reached the edge of St. Giles. Here the houses were more crowded and dingy, the streets filled with ragged, dirty children. Vivian especially