Read Online Silver in the Blood by Jessica Day George - Free Book Online Page A

Dacia will look like a fashion plate.” Maria paused. “And so will you, of course.”
    Maria returned to her knitting, humming happily under her breath. The twins were asleep, and so was Lou’s father. Lou needed air, or she thought she might have the vapors or something worse. Muttering something that her mother could hear but wouldn’t understand, she got to her feet and left their compartment.
    â€œMaria Louisa, you are not chaperoned,” her mother called after her.
    For once in her life Lou ignored her mother and kept going. She walked down the length of their car, into the next car, and then the one after that. It was the last car on the train, and she’d hoped it would be empty, since it was only small and not reserved by any particular families that she knew of.
    But it turned out to be the gentlemen’s smoking car, and Lou walked into a cloud of blue cigar smoke that made her cough. All conversation stopped, and several of the gentlemen also coughed, and someone asked if she needed help.
    â€œI just want . . . air,” Lou gasped, and thought for a moment that she really was choking.
    â€œYou won’t find it in here,” said a gentle voice behind her.
    A hand took hold of her elbow and steered her out of that car and into the one just before it. She was still blinking smoke out of her eyes when she was guided into a compartment, and her rescuer opened all the windows so that she could breathe. She plopped down on a plush seat and stuck her head out a window.
    â€œOof! Vile!” Lou gasped.
    â€œWell, that’s what I get for hopping on this train last minute,” said her rescuer. “Every time the wind gusts, I get clouds of smoke in here unless I keep the windows shut tight—so be careful! And the passageway is constantly traveled by men with big cigars already in hand.”
    Lou giggled in sympathy, and also a bit in embarrassment, and pulled her head back inside to look at her companion. He was British, she could tell by the accent, but she hadn’t thought she would recognize him.
    â€œYou’re Lord John Harcastle!” A red flush stole up her neck and into her cheeks.
    â€œAh. Yes. I suppose I am.” He fiddled with his cuffs and smiled awkwardly.
    â€œBut you’re so young! The photograph made you look . . . and the papers made it sound like . . .” She trailed off, and blushed even darker.
    â€œSaw that, did you?” Lord John made a face. “That was not the best day I’ve ever had, I must confess.”
    â€œI—I imagine not,” she said, and then giggled a little before she could help herself.
    To her relief, he joined her, laughing easily and hiding his eyes with one hand in an endearingly bashful way. He was probably no more than a pair of years older than her, nineteen at the most. He had brown hair that looked mussed as though he’d been sleeping, and his blue suit was rumpled as well. His collar was open and he wasn’t wearing a tie, but Lou saw something with red stripes crammed between two seat cushions that she thought might be the missing item of clothing.
    Dacia had sent the newspaper clippings to Lou, just a few months ago. Lord Johnny, as everyone called him, had gotten into an altercation with a member of the House of Lords on the steps of Parliament and had punched the other lord, knocking him unconscious. When police had tried to restrain him, Lord Johnny had fought them as well, and accidentally kicked a newspaper reporter who had arrived on the scene. The newspapers, protecting one of their own, had revealed that Lord Johnny had incurred enormous debts (gambling was implied)and his father was on the verge of cutting him off before he squandered their entire fortune. The papers had made him sound like a hardened criminal, and the photograph that had run with the articles had made him look older, decidedly unkempt, and downright devilish.
    And this was all before Aunt Kate had