Read Online Scoundrel (Lost Lords of Radcliffe Book 4) by Cheryl Holt - Free Book Online Page B

other twenty-year-old girl flirting with a handsome man. And she was delighted to report that he was very handsome.
    He resembled Mr. Hubbard in many ways, closely enough in some respects that they might have been brothers. Tall and fit, with Mr. Hubbard’s same six feet in height, Mr. Robertson’s shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, his legs lean and muscled. He had black hair, worn long and unbarbered like Mr. Hubbard’s, but while Mr. Hubbard’s eyes were very blue, Mr. Robertson’s were the most delightful shade of green.
    As she’d deduced early on, the true difference between him and Mr. Hubbard was in their character. Mr. Hubbard was arrogant, curt, and imperious, and he didn’t seem to like people very much. Mr. Robertson was his exact opposite.
    He was happy and contented, glad to have a woman in the house, glad he had a new person to talk to. If he was worried about his predicament of being trapped in Africa without the resources to go home, he didn’t show it.
    She sighed, wishing she were a man. He was male and a bachelor, which meant he could work at a job, travel with his employer, visit Egypt and other exotic places. He could have adventures and fend for himself and get into and out of various jams, and he was never reprimanded or told to behave better.
    He’d glommed on to a property that wasn’t his and was being scandalously pampered by servants who weren’t his own. Apparently he felt no moral compunction to end his idyll, to conduct himself more appropriately. Nor did he appear to feel guilty over his good fortune in landing himself in such an interesting quandary.
    “Why are you sighing?” he asked. “Am I boring you?”
    “No, I’m not bored.”
    He was completely attuned to her, and she was thrilled by his attention. At the convent, no one noticed her unless she spoke too loudly or ignored her assigned chores.
    “I was thinking how lucky you are,” she said.
    “Lucky? How am I lucky?”
    “You’re a man.”
    “Yes, and we rule the world.”
    “You’re living in this dramatic spot, and there’s no one to tell you that you can’t.”
    “Well, except the true owner who I expect will barge in one of these days and boot us out.”
    “What will you do then?”
    “I suppose we’ll finally head for England.”
    “But you’re in no hurry.”
    “No,” he said. “I’m having a grand time, and even if I had the chance to depart, I’d never leave Mr. Hubbard here by himself.”
    “Why is that?”
    “He needs me.”
    “Does he?” she asked. “He seems rather independent and quite satisfied with his lot. If you left, are you certain he’d miss you?”
    “I’m certain he wouldn’t, but I would miss him dreadfully. We’ve become so close the past few months. I couldn’t imagine spending a single second without him.”
    “You almost sound smitten. If you were a female, I’d say you absolutely were.”
    “I’m incredibly fond of him. And so grateful.”
    “Why?”
    “Must you ask? He saved my life over and over again.”
    “Really? How?”
    “On the ship, when the pirates attacked? Oh my, you should have seen him! He was so brave and heroic.”
    “He fought them?”
    “To the very end. Even when it was clear that all was lost, that we couldn’t hope to prevail, he battled to the last man.”
    “My goodness.”
    “Then when we were in the water, he was the one who made me hold on. He was so dashing and commanding, and he refused to let me give up. I owe him everything.”
    “My goodness,” she said again.
    “I’ll stay with him for as long as he chooses to remain.”
    She liked that he was so loyal to Mr. Hubbard, that he’d support Mr. Hubbard through thick and thin. It was a far cry from the conduct of the women at the convent. They all had little in the way of material possessions or power, so they hoarded their petty property and bickered over status. The least change in routine, even such minor issues as rearrangement of the seating chart at supper,