Read Online Not Always a Saint by Mary Jo Putney - Free Book Online

quiet evening. His wife is lovely, and very active with the Sisters Foundation. I doubt there will be any eligible older gentlemen, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself, and the Kirklands are good people to know.”
    â€œThat sounds pleasant.” Jessie wryly admitted that while her head said she needed a husband, her heart was more interested in quiet evenings with good company.
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    After returning to Ashton House, Jessie succumbed to temptation and climbed up to the nursery instead of retiring to her own room. Beth was her touchstone, the reason she was sailing in these uncharted waters. She needed to see her.
    Silently Jessie eased open the door to her daughter’s room. A dim lamp gave just enough light to reveal Beth’s small form in the bed, her soft cloth doll in her arms. Jessie had made the doll, giving it toffee brown hair the same shade as her daughter’s. Her little girl looked like a sleeping angel.
    Resisting the desire to wake her daughter up, Jesse settled for feasting her eyes on her, then blowing a silent kiss before she headed to her room. Beth was worth any risk. Even the risk of stirring the dangers that lurked in Jessie’s past.

Chapter 8
    W hen they reached Kirkland House, Laurel and her husband retired to their rooms, though from the way they were looking at each other, Daniel suspected that they were not going to bed because his sister was overtired. What would it be like to retire to his own bedchamber with a wife who affected him like the woman in black . . . ?
    Daniel shut off that train of thought immediately. He needed a good wife, not a dangerous siren.
    Instead of heading to his room, he descended to the basement kitchen in search of a cup of tea. He liked knowing his way to the kitchen of any house he stayed in. One never knew when hunger might strike in the depths of night.
    It wasn’t particularly late, so he was unsurprised to find activity in the kitchen. A middle-aged woman with an air of authority glanced up from the dough she was kneading, her expression wary. “You’d be Lord Romayne.” She brushed a lock of hair back, leaving a trail of flour on her cheek. “There’s no need for you to come down here. You can ring for what you like.”
    The remark sounded like exasperation at having her territory invaded, but Daniel responded with a disarming smile. “I know. This household runs like a finely tuned clock. But I like kitchens, and I’m using the excuse of a cup of tea to explore. I think you must be Mrs. Simond? I’ve only been here a few days, but it’s clear why Lord and Lady Kirkland value you so highly.”
    Expression mollified, the cook nodded. “Aye, that’s me. Suzie, make his lordship a pot of tea. I could use a drop myself.” The kitchen maid at the far end of the room nodded and set a kettle of water to heat.
    Daniel said, “My sister says you have a very fine kitchen cat.”
    Mrs. Simond’s expression softened even more. “That would be Badger. He’s in that chair over there, hoping to benefit from me making beefsteak puddings.”
    Daniel followed her gesture and found Badger, a large black and white cat with huge green eyes and an expression of deep contentment on his furry face. He also had a rich, rumbling purr when his head was scratched.
    â€œA very fine fellow indeed,” Daniel said as the cat raised his chin to allow better neck scratching. “Every kitchen should have a cat.”
    â€œYour lady sister says the same,” the cook said as her strong hands resumed kneading. “They keep the vermin away, they do.”
    Daniel was about to reply when a great clatter, bang, and crash of breaking china sounded from behind a door at the other end of the kitchen. Suzie opened the door hastily to reveal a narrow servants’ staircase and a young footman moaning with pain at the bottom of the steps, broken china scattered around