Read Online Dedicated Villain by Patricia Veryan - Free Book Online

m’daughter!” His arm flew up.
    The girl flung herself at her sire, reaching up to grasp his wrist and crying urgently, “He helped me save Picayune, sir, and threw himself into the river to do so! I could do no less than bring him here—surely you see that? Surely, you do not doubt me, my dear one?”
    â€œWhat stuff,” said Torrey with derision. “As if a man would risk drowning for the sake of a miserable alley cat!”
    Bradford was looking into his daughter’s face uncertainly, but at this he rounded on the younger man. “Do you dare to name Fiona a liar, Freemon Torrey?” he thundered.
    â€œI assure you, the lady speaks truth,” said Mathieson. “I am all too aware that I do not appear heroic, which is perfectly logical since I am very far from being so.” His lips quirked. “I might better admit that ‘my cue is villainous melancholy.’ Especially in this unfortunate costume.”
    An appreciative twinkle came into Bradford’s eyes.
    Fiona released her father’s wrist and turned to beam at the accused.
    Torrey glared and pointed out acidly that no true gentleman would disrobe in front of an unwed lady of Quality, no matter what the circumstances.
    Bradford looked at Mathieson thoughtfully.
    â€œMr. Torrey,” said Mathieson, in the soft drawl that would have warned many who knew him, “I think you and I should discuss this matter at some future date.”
    â€œNot too distant, I trust,” snapped Torrey. “Mr. Bradford, ’tis evident to me—”
    â€œEnough!” Bradford threw the whip down and said impatiently, “I’ll believe my daughter, Freemon, and I’ll thank you to keep a still tongue in your head about this!” He advanced on Mathieson, scanning his features intently. “What have you to say in the matter, sir?”
    â€œI put it to you, Mr. Bradford,” said Mathieson ruefully, “do I
look
like a man engaged in an
affaire de coeur
?”
    Bradford blinked from the bare feet to the blanket, to thetousled black locks, and gave a throaty laugh. “Begad but y’don’t. Blest if ever I saw a
less
romantical fellow!”
    â€œExactly so, Papa,” agreed Miss Bradford, demurely.
    Mathieson was unable to decide whether he had won, or lost.

    â€œThat blasted cat,” grunted Bradford, sitting on the edge of the bunk in his caravan and watching Mathieson who was sprawled sleepily in the lower bunk opposite, from which Torrey had been pre-empted. “Well, I’m obliged t’you, not to refine on it. My girl is quite capable of having clung to the treetrunk until both were swept away!”
    Mathieson was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open. “I’ll own I was somewhat surprised,” he murmured, “that a lady of Quality should be out here, all alone, on such a night.”
    â€œAye, I’ll admit that was nobody’s fault but my own.” Bradford’s fine face reddened, but his gaze did not falter. “Fiona is very dear to my heart, whatever you may think. I left Freemon here to guard her!”
    Freemon Torrey, who Mathieson now knew to be a lifelong friend of the Bradfords, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and at once declared with gruff resentment, “She ran me off, sir. As I told you. We quarrelled over—nothing really. You know how—how unreasonable Fiona can be at times … I was enraged, and—left her, God forgive me! I own ’twas bad, but you know I mean to marry her and would never do anything to harm her. Truly, I thought Mrs. Dunnigan and Japhet would arrive at any moment, not—” his eyes flashed to Mathieson. He growled, “You may be sure ’twill never happen again!”
    â€œOne would hope not,” said Mathieson with pious insincerity.
    â€œDamn you!” Torrey’s fists clenched. “Were you not disabled, sir—”
    â€œWell, he