Read Online My Lord Hercules by Ava Stone - Free Book Online Page A

wouldn’t ever tell a soul. Why would he tell his sister, and
why would she tell anyone else? That was most upsetting.
    “ Of course she wouldn’t,”
Alessandra defended. “Devlin would kill her, and she would never risk all of our
reputations by doing something so foolish.”
    Miranda couldn’t quite meet her older
sister’s eyes. What if she had been caught by someone other than
Harry? What is she’d destroyed her sisters’ chances at happiness?
All she wanted was to learn the truth about Tessie. No one else
seemed to care, but Tessie had been a good friend to Miranda. If
she didn’t care, if she didn’t find out the truth, no one would.
And that seemed a travesty.
    Still, she shouldn’t have put her
sisters’ reputations in danger in the process. That was
unforgivable.
    “ I can’t believe she would
say such a thing,” Miranda said instead of answering the charges
before her.
    Penny shook her head. “I don’t think
anyone else overheard. They were in the retiring room. They didn’t
even know I was there.”
    Miranda wasn’t sure if that made her
feel better or not. Shouldn’t Lady St. Austell make certain that
others couldn’t overhear such tales? And why would she confide them
to Lady Gifford? “What else did she say?” she asked, almost afraid
to hear the answer.
    Penny heaved a sigh. “That she’s
worried about Lord Harrison.”
    “ Because of me,” Miranda
muttered under her breath.
    Penny nodded. “I’m afraid
so.”

 

    As soon as the Woodsworth butler
opened the front door, Harry nodded at the servant. “I need to
speak with Lord Woodsworth.”
    The butler’s eyes widened for a
moment, then he shook his head. “I am sorry, my lord, but Lord
Woodsworth is not in residence.”
    “ Where is he residing,
then?”
    “ Clifton Court?” the man
suggested.
    Hampshire? “He’s returned to his
seat?”
    The butler appeared more perplexed by
the moment. “Returned, sir? From where?”
    Clearly the man had no idea that his
master was somewhere in London. Harry scrubbed a hand down his
face. Why the devil would a man with pockets to let spend funds he
didn’t have for lodging when he already had a home in Mayfair?
Dread pricked at Harry’s heart. What if Miranda was right? What if
Woodsworth had done something to the Birkin girl? What other
nefarious schemes was he plotting? “Is Lady Woodsworth in, then?”
Perhaps the marchioness knew where her wastrel of a son
was.
    “ Of course, sir.” The butler
opened the door wide. “If you’ll just wait in here.” He gestured to
the front parlor.
    Almost as soon as Harry entered the
parlor in question, Lady Woodsworth stepped inside the room as
well. “Lord Harrison, what a surprise.”
    He was sure it was. In fact, he wasn’t
sure the last time he saw the marchioness. Pippa’s wedding and then
Alice’s in the spring, most likely. Harry smiled at the lady, who
really was very kind for all that she had borne a scoundrel for a
son. “I’m looking for Wood.”
    The marchioness’s face turned a bit
pale. “You don’t own his vowels, do you?”
    Ah. So that’s why Woodsworth was
somewhere else, somewhere his creditors couldn’t easily locate him.
Harry shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I’m actually looking
for an acquaintance of his. A Miss Theresa Birkin. I was hoping he
could point me in her direction.”
    Relief washed over Lady Woodsworth’s
face. Even still she shook her head. “The name sounds familiar, but
I don’t think I know the girl. Alice would know. She remembers
everything, you know?”
    But a missing girl was hardly
something Harry wanted to discuss with Alice. The poor girl had
already endured a lifetime of troubles just for sharing
Woodsworth’s blood. “Where might I find Wood, my lady?”
    Again she shook her head. “I’m not
certain, Lord Harrison. He could be in Hampshire or somewhere in
Town, but I haven’t seen him.”
    And she was probably the happier for
it, not that Harry would say as much.