Read Online Rogue's Honor by Brenda Hiatt - Free Book Online

answering. "You've
been fortunate, then. Or perhaps you simply haven't had much
experience with them."
    To hide her amusement at his assumption, she
buried her nose in a basket of mint and thyme perched on the edge
of the cart and inhaled deeply. "Perhaps."
    "I have. Or at least my mother did, enduring
their insults and ill-treatment, even as she did the work they
wouldn't deign to do with their own hands—for my sake."
    "You mother raised you alone?" Her amusement
abrubtly gone, Pearl found that she preferred not to dwell on the
shortcomings of her class after all.
    He nodded. "My father died when I was very
young. He must have been poor, for he apparently left my mother
nothing, or very little. In any event, she was forced to work to
support us both."
    "Until you were old enough to help?" Pearl
tried to imagine what it must have been like for the poor woman and
her son—now this magnetically enigmatic man beside her.
    "I never had the chance, actually. She died
before I was twelve, of a fever she contracted while caring for
some titled dame's child. The fine lady wouldn't risk contagion in
the nursery herself, of course. And she never so much as inquired
after my mother while she was ill."
    Pearl bit her lip. No wonder Mr. St. Clair
despised the upper classes. She wished she had stories of
compassion and caring to relate, to counteract his own experiences,
but she couldn't think of a single one at the moment. More than
ever, she was determined to keep her true identity from him. She
didn't think she could bear to see that loathing in his eyes turned
upon her.
    "Would you like to take that basket of herbs
with you?" he asked her then.
    Belatedly, she realized she was still
touching the basket, half turned from him in her confusion. "Ah,
no. But it does remind me . . ." Turning to the man tending the
cart, she asked, "Have you any mallow, or angelica root?"
    The man, a burly fellow with a shapeless
black felt hat that partially obscured his blunt features, frowned.
"Mallow I gots, miss, right here." He lifted a few sprigs of the
familiar plant. "No roots, though. You might try Mistress Wiggan's
patch, across the way." He pointed to another, smaller cart, heaped
with carrots, potatoes and other roots and tubers.
    Luke paid for the mallow as well as a sack of
peas, then led her across to the other cart without a word, though
she knew he was watching her curiously. "Mistress Wiggan," she
called out as they approached it, "Do you—ah, there, I see it. May
we have some of that angelica root, please?"
    The crone, her tattered yellow skirts
swirling about her, turned to them with a toothless grin. "Ha'penny
a bunch," she replied.
    As before, Luke paid for the roots without
question, handing them over to Pearl. Not until they were on their
way again did he ask, "I presume you have a particular plan for
those items?"
    She nodded. "I'd like to stop and check on
little Mimi, if you don't mind. These may help in her
recovery."

    * * *

    A few minutes later, Luke knocked on Mrs.
Plank's door. Though there were several questions he'd have liked
to ask along the way, he kept them to himself for the moment,
merely watching to see what this girl of mystery might do.
    Certain now that she was anything but
simple-minded, he found his original attraction to her reviving
with redoubled force. He was determined to unravel her secrets —and
perhaps other things, as well. He would have to tread carefully,
though. If she suspected that he knew, she might leave before he
had the chance.
    "Good day, Mrs. Plank," he said when the
woman opened to them. "We wished to inquire after Mimi."
    The mother smiled, her tired face brightening
until he could see the traces of what might once have been
prettiness. "She's still sleeping, but her breathing is regular
like. Again I thank you—both of you."
    Purdy spoke up then. "We won't come in and
risk waking her, Mrs. Plank, but I've brought something that may
speed her back to health." She held out the roots