Read Online Practice to Deceive by Patricia Veryan - Free Book Online Page B

thereby bereft of breath, she said gently, “But—you are, sir. And very improperly, I might add.”
    He stared at her in dismay, his face so white and pinched that fear gripped her anew and she asked that Gordon please produce the flask of brandy he’d brought.
    â€œI’d thought we were—well away,” Quentin gasped. “Are we still at Highview, then? Lord—if we are found, this lady—”
    Gordon shoved the flask at him. “Take a pull at that, it’ll warm you. Hold him up, Rob.”
    â€œHere we go, sir. Do you know what I think? We may not be burying the poor Major, after all.”
    Penelope flashed an irked glance at Killiam’s craggy features. “Here, let me plump the pillows and then you may lay him back.”
    â€œNo such thing!” Quentin blinked a little as the brandy burned down his throat. “We must be away, ma’am.” He glanced at his brother. “Can we, Sir Knight?”
    Gordon took back the flask and stoppered it, a faint grin curving his stern mouth at the familiar nickname. “We’ll contrive, rabble. Though it may be a close-run thing.” He turned to Penelope, who had retreated to the washstand to remove Quentin’s blood from her hands. “You are a valiant woman, Miss Montgomery. I know of no adequate way to thank you.”
    She looked at him sharply. “I think you do, sir.”
    â€œWell, if he don’t, I do,” said Quentin. “Get my pestilential self as far from the lady as possible!”
    â€œWe’d have been away at once, if ’twere possible,” Gordon explained. “We only managed to carry you thus far undetected because Delavale was raising hell’s own din outside. But to climb down the tree with all his bounty hunters milling about below would have been sheer folly.”
    â€œIt was folly to come in here after me in the first place!” Despite that harsh judgement, Quentin’s expression spoke volumes, and he added earnestly, “I’m much obliged to you, brother.”
    â€œPish!” His cheeks reddening, Gordon looked to Penelope. “Well, ma’am? I’ll get no sense from him. Can he travel?”
    Quentin sat straighter. “Have I not said it?”
    â€œYou speak gibberish, as usual. You’re weak as a cat.”
    â€œStarved,” declared Quentin. “It grieves me to complain, Miss Montgomery, but your uncle sets a devilish poor table.”
    His green eyes twinkled at her, his indomitable courage causing a lump to come into her throat. She had been fashioning a square from the sheet she’d torn up for bandages, and she took it up and bent over him. “I cannot deny that, alas. And this arm must rest in a sling.” She began to arrange the cloth about his arm, moving very cautiously. Not until she leaned closer to tie the knot did she commit the serious blunder of meeting his eyes again. The smile in them made her head spin, and she paused, staring at him.
    He reached up to place his thin hand over her trembling fingers. “You always were a right one,” he said, in the deep voice that had brightened her dreams. “Penelope Anne … I owe you my life.”
    Little ripples of a strange electricity were making her skin shiver. Her breathing became hurried and shallow. Dreading lest he see, and know, she looked down and was further flustered to see his hand clasped on hers. She noticed in an absent way that he wore a heavy gold ring on that hand, a beautifully wrought representation of a dragon’s head, with two gleaming rubies forming the eyes. She freed her hand and finished the knot. “You owe me nothing, Major Chandler,” she said, marvelling that her voice could be so calm when her emotions were so riotous. “I struck a bargain with your brother. I have no doubt he intends to keep his given word.”
    Gordon bit his lip and avoided her eyes. “You have not answered