Read Online Practically Wicked by Alissa Johnson - Free Book Online

fiercely independent and oft times wild Winnefred was hardly representative of what some preferred to think of as the weaker sex.
    “You have a wife,” he tried instead. “I should think that comparable on some level.”
    “Well, it’s not. I don’t know what to do with the woman, what to say to her. Should I apologize? Should I have gone to her instead of insisting she come here? Do I embrace her? Do I welcome her to my home or to our home?” He swore under his breath and began to pace between the settee and the fireplace. “It should have been her home before now. It should have been available to her at the very least. Hell, I will need to apologize.”
    Or she would, Max thought darkly, if he discovered she was playing the Haverstons false and turning his friend inside out in the process. “For pity’s sake, man, sit down. You’re making this into more than it is. You’ll have a conversation with the woman and she’ll be on her way.” And he could get down to the business of investigating her claim on the Haverstons. “You can manage that—”
    “I invited her for a visit,” Lucien cut in. “Not a conversation.”
    “You don’t mean to have her stay on at Caldwell.” By the look of Lucien’s expression, he did. Oh, bloody hell. “Lucien, you don’t know this woman. I’m not sure anyone knows this woman, not even her own mother.”
    “I know enough. We share a bond. We share blood.”
    “The blood of a faithless bastard,” he reminded Lucien. “And her mother, you’ll recall, is Mrs. Wrayburn. A woman many might call a faithless bitch, though I’ve yet to meet the man careless enough to do so within earshot—”
    “You’ve never believed blood would out,” Lucien said, clearly taken aback, but not so much that he slowed his determination to wear a hole in the carpet.
    “It doesn’t. It can’t. Blood doesn’t do much of anything.” And the mere claim of blood shouldn’t grant one unfettered access to Caldwell Manor.
    “It makes family,” Lucien countered.
    “No, it makes lineage.” Max shook his head and held up a hand to forestall further argument. A serious debate wasn’t going to help Lucien at present. “Just…be cautious in your dealings with Miss Rees.”
    “Of course.”
    There was no “of course” about it. “What proof did Miss Rees provide?”
    “Correspondence between our father and her mother, along with a contract and a journal.”
    “A contract?”
    “She was his mistress. Naturally, there was a contract.” Lucien’s lips twisted. “And naturally, his lordship failed to fulfill his obligations.”
    The sliver of unease and suspicion that had been working on Max’s skin began to grow at an exponential rate.
    “And Miss Rees has requested you do so in his stead,” he guessed. “Those obligations amount to how much, exactly?”
    “A thousand pounds or so.” Lucien dismissed the number with an impatient wave of the hand. “Immaterial, she’ll have whatever she needs. Settling the contract is not the purpose of having her visit. She’s my sister. I want to meet her.”
    Max said nothing aloud, but he was swearing profusely in his head. Anna wasn’t coming to Caldwell Manor to meet with family, or even to collect that thousand pounds. She was after what Lucien’s reputation guaranteed—the very thing he had just agreed to provide… whatever she needs .
    It was no secret the marquess and his brother had been actively making retributions for the financial crimes committed by their stepmother before her death. And it would be a fairly simple thing for a woman as diversely connected as Mrs. Wrayburn to find a competent forger in London.
    Max debated how much opposition it was wise to put forward at present. Just a little to start, he decided. It was too late to rethink the invitation, but not too late to encourage that bit of caution once the woman arrived.
    “You don’t find it peculiar that there’s been no mention of Miss Rees or Mrs. Wrayburn