Read Online My Lady Mischief by Kathy Carmichael - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kathy Carmichael
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his side, sealing the final trunk.
"You're not tryin' to tip me the wink, are you, my lord?" Suspicion sharpened Hobbs' face.
"No, I wish it were that simple." Hart cringed when he heard a particularly loud bang coming from the ceiling directly over head. "I will not be traveling alone." He walked over to the window to glance at the weather outside. It was a typically gray English day. Although the sun was visible, it struggled with overcast skies for supremacy and there was a decided nip in the air. Another boring day for travel.
"You mean—you can't mean the chit's agreed to be your wife? Not an earl's daughter."
"No." Hartingfield slashed at his thigh with leather riding gloves. "I am escorting her to London."
Hobbs looked at him in astonishment. "Ye won't be wedding her?"
"Last night I came within inches of cupid's bowstring, Hobbs. The minx wouldn't have me."
"No female in her right mind would turn you down."
"Lady Althea did." Hart studied his nails. "Perhaps you have the right of it. Mayhap her wits have gone begging. However, I fully intend that she shall be my wife."
Hart walked over to a chair and took a seat. "I'll escort her to Lady Prunella's and use the time in transit in an attempt to alter her decision."
Hobbs shot him a quizzical look. "Are you certain you won't be needing me?"
"Not this time," replied Hart with a glint of laughter in his eye. "We will be accompanied by her companion, so I won't require your service as duenna." More seriously, he added, "By tomorrow or the next day at latest, I hope to be in London. You may travel ahead without concern to assure my comfort when I arrive."
The luggage carriage left at noon. Thea had already bid farewell to Uncle Egbert as well as the staff at Steyne. With tear-filled eyes, she turned to her father.
"Oh, Papa. I shall miss you dreadfully. Are you certain that you cannot accompany me?"
"No, m'dear. Ever since Caroline..." The old earl's voice trailed off.
Thea bowed her head. She remembered too well how devastated her father had been after the death of her mother. Her parents had left that morning, in high spirits over their planned trip to London. Their carriage had overturned, killing her mother immediately and leaving her father desolate.
"I am not at all sure that sending you to your aunt's is the right thing to do, Thea. Mayhap you would be better off remaining with me, here at Steyne Hall."
"No, Papa. You were correct." She had reconciled herself to the unwanted journey by thoughts of helping her father rid himself of his obsessive fear of travel. Now, Lord Hartingfield would be escorting her. But she retained hopes of luring her father to London, just the same. A wind came up, bellowing her skirts, and for added warmth she pulled at the lapels of her traveling pelisse.
"A London Season is exactly what I need." So saying, she gripped him in a frantic embrace. 'Take care of yourself, Papa, and remember, I expect you to come in time for my ball."
If she could get him to London, this once, then perhaps he'd have a chance to heal the nine-year-old wound. Since her mother's death, he'd refused to leave the boundaries of Steyne. This could not be considered healthy for such a previously vibrant man.
Hartingfield stepped forward, blocking her view of the only life she knew, and handed her into the carriage. Emma and her nurse, Mrs. Wiggins, were already settled within.
He faced the earl. "Don't worry, sir. I shall take excellent care of your daughter."
"I know you will." Steyne darted a nervous glance at the coach. "Don't allow the coachman to spring those high-blooded wheelers of yours." His voice turned to a growl. "Remember, if anything happens to my Thea, I'll have your skin."
Steyne schooled the emotion from his face as he turned back to Thea, who leaned through the open carriage window.
"Althea, before your departure, I am hoping you can enlighten me pertaining to a small mystery." He grinned. "There is a blue ribbon collar adorning
"You're not tryin' to tip me the wink, are you, my lord?" Suspicion sharpened Hobbs' face.
"No, I wish it were that simple." Hart cringed when he heard a particularly loud bang coming from the ceiling directly over head. "I will not be traveling alone." He walked over to the window to glance at the weather outside. It was a typically gray English day. Although the sun was visible, it struggled with overcast skies for supremacy and there was a decided nip in the air. Another boring day for travel.
"You mean—you can't mean the chit's agreed to be your wife? Not an earl's daughter."
"No." Hartingfield slashed at his thigh with leather riding gloves. "I am escorting her to London."
Hobbs looked at him in astonishment. "Ye won't be wedding her?"
"Last night I came within inches of cupid's bowstring, Hobbs. The minx wouldn't have me."
"No female in her right mind would turn you down."
"Lady Althea did." Hart studied his nails. "Perhaps you have the right of it. Mayhap her wits have gone begging. However, I fully intend that she shall be my wife."
Hart walked over to a chair and took a seat. "I'll escort her to Lady Prunella's and use the time in transit in an attempt to alter her decision."
Hobbs shot him a quizzical look. "Are you certain you won't be needing me?"
"Not this time," replied Hart with a glint of laughter in his eye. "We will be accompanied by her companion, so I won't require your service as duenna." More seriously, he added, "By tomorrow or the next day at latest, I hope to be in London. You may travel ahead without concern to assure my comfort when I arrive."
The luggage carriage left at noon. Thea had already bid farewell to Uncle Egbert as well as the staff at Steyne. With tear-filled eyes, she turned to her father.
"Oh, Papa. I shall miss you dreadfully. Are you certain that you cannot accompany me?"
"No, m'dear. Ever since Caroline..." The old earl's voice trailed off.
Thea bowed her head. She remembered too well how devastated her father had been after the death of her mother. Her parents had left that morning, in high spirits over their planned trip to London. Their carriage had overturned, killing her mother immediately and leaving her father desolate.
"I am not at all sure that sending you to your aunt's is the right thing to do, Thea. Mayhap you would be better off remaining with me, here at Steyne Hall."
"No, Papa. You were correct." She had reconciled herself to the unwanted journey by thoughts of helping her father rid himself of his obsessive fear of travel. Now, Lord Hartingfield would be escorting her. But she retained hopes of luring her father to London, just the same. A wind came up, bellowing her skirts, and for added warmth she pulled at the lapels of her traveling pelisse.
"A London Season is exactly what I need." So saying, she gripped him in a frantic embrace. 'Take care of yourself, Papa, and remember, I expect you to come in time for my ball."
If she could get him to London, this once, then perhaps he'd have a chance to heal the nine-year-old wound. Since her mother's death, he'd refused to leave the boundaries of Steyne. This could not be considered healthy for such a previously vibrant man.
Hartingfield stepped forward, blocking her view of the only life she knew, and handed her into the carriage. Emma and her nurse, Mrs. Wiggins, were already settled within.
He faced the earl. "Don't worry, sir. I shall take excellent care of your daughter."
"I know you will." Steyne darted a nervous glance at the coach. "Don't allow the coachman to spring those high-blooded wheelers of yours." His voice turned to a growl. "Remember, if anything happens to my Thea, I'll have your skin."
Steyne schooled the emotion from his face as he turned back to Thea, who leaned through the open carriage window.
"Althea, before your departure, I am hoping you can enlighten me pertaining to a small mystery." He grinned. "There is a blue ribbon collar adorning
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