Read Online No Proper Lady by Isabel Cooper - Free Book Online Page A

didn’t look at Joan.
    “Sometimes it works out,” she finally said, not much louder than a whisper. “Sometimes, someone comes before things get too bad.”
    “Yeah,” said Joan, clearing her throat. “Sometimes, yeah.”
    If she got the chance, she’d kick Reynell in the balls a few times before he died.
    Trees gave way to low hedges bordering green grass and low banks of flowers in bright red and blue, yellow and white. A little farther on were rosebushes with rich spots of red and yellow and white against their shining, dark green leaves. Joan tried to drink it all in as she walked, the color and the light and the sweet smell in the air. It was a few minutes before she looked over at Eleanor.
    The girl was putting up a fairly good front, or maybe a fairly good fight, walking along with her head high and her face mostly calm. Her eyes kept flicking to the shadows and back, though, and her breathing was too quick, like a trapped animal’s.
    “By the way,” Joan said, turning away reluctantly from the flowers, “where are we, exactly?”
    Englefield Hall, she learned, and Queen’s Engle was the nearby village. They were half a day from London, more or less, if you caught the train and had a good coach. When the weather wasn’t so fine, Eleanor said, perhaps Joan could look at some of the atlases, and Joan eagerly agreed. She’d never seen a map of the world in this time; she hadn’t really seen a map of the whole world at all. High Command had one, but it was mostly guesswork. She didn’t tell Eleanor any of that.
    As Eleanor spoke, she seemed to calm down a little. By the time they reached the house again, she was even smiling once in a while. She did keep looking at the shadows, though, and that made Joan think about security.
    The subject was still on her mind that evening when she sat in what Eleanor had called the drawing room and tried to make sense of the rules in a book of etiquette. Footsteps, when she heard them, were a welcome distraction.
    Distraction didn’t explain the way her pulse leapt when Simon came through the door, though. It was the first real opportunity she’d had to look at the man without considering tactics or trying to get her bearings, and she couldn’t deny liking what she saw. The tall athlete’s body that his clothes outlined, the hint of something not so stern about his firm mouth, and the crisp black hair that fell across his forehead—there was plenty to like.
    He seemed a little surprised as he looked at her, and Joan clamped down quickly on her thoughts. No good ogling her allies too blatantly—the last thing she needed was Simon getting awkward around her. “Evening,” she said, and tried to make her smile casual rather than lecherous.
    “Good evening,” he said, and looked from her face to the book that was now closed in her lap. “Did you hear me coming?”
    Joan stifled a grin. “Were you trying to be quiet?”
    “No, but the hall is carpeted in this part of the house.”
    “I noticed,” Joan said and shrugged. “Carpet’s not air.”
    “You hear very well, then.”
    Now she couldn’t resist. “I do a lot of things very well.” Joan let herself grin this time and then moved on. “Eleanor’s gone to do some reading, but she seemed to be all right this afternoon. Showed me around the gardens and everything.”
    “That’s…more than you realize. I’m glad to hear it.” Simon dropped into a chair next to the sofa where Joan was sitting, crossing one leg over the other. “I hope you enjoyed the tour,” he added.
    “Yeah, it’s a great place you’ve got here.” She didn’t actually want to describe how great it was, not with his eyes on her. She had no desire to sound sappy around this man. “I was assuming,” she said quickly, “that you’d have warned me if it wasn’t safe out there. After yesterday, I mean. If I was wrong, though, or if you hadn’t thought about it—”
    One corner of Simon’s mouth quirked upward. “That’s