Read Online The Bad Baron's Daughter by Laura London - Free Book Online

mother’s father. But he was a merchant, and Papa told him that he’d be damned if he’d listen to the moralistic nonsense of a cit. That made Grandpa mad and he said that I’d be better off dead than raised like that and he never wanted to hear of my existence again. I did write to Grandpa before I left Essex and told him that Papa had disappeared and I would be at
The Merry Maidenhead
. Grandfather hasn’t contacted me, so there you are.”
    “How often,” asked Linden, “does Papa disappear?”
    Katie sucked thoughtfully on her needle-stabbed finger. “Oh, all the time. But never before for so long and without leaving me
any
money.”
    Linden frowned. “Haven’t you any idea where your father is?”
    “No. The man Papa owes ten thousand pounds to thinks he’s gone to the Continent to escape his debts, but the more I think about it, I recall that Papa often talked about going to America—he said that there is a lot of opportunity for gamblers there.”
    “Mmm,” said Linden, looking sardonic. “Isn’t there anyone besides Zack to take you in until your father can be located? Friends?”
    “I’m afraid not,” said Katie sadly. “People tend to disassociate themselves from the families of card-sharpers, and we moved a lot to avoid Papa’s creditors. I don’t have any friends. Besides Zack.”
    “Did you come here last night because you decided I might be a better bargain than Zack?” asked Linden, regarding Katie steadily.
    Katie flushed. “Was that how it looked? Zack only told me that he was taking me to the house of a friend where I’d be safer than at
The Merry Maidenhead
. You see,” said Katie, the pain fresh in her voice, “I trusted Zack.”
    Lord Linden could not have looked less sympathetic. “Katie, a newborn infant would have known better than to trust Zack.”
    Katie regarded Linden with her astonishingly blue eyes. “Even if my father said I could trust him?”
    “Particularly if
your
father said you could trust him, nitwit. I know I wasn’t in much of a humor to listen to you last night, but don’t you think you could have tried a little harder to tell me all this, considering what you had at stake?”
    “Yes, but it wasn’t easy for me to think clearly because Zack had drugged me with laudanum.”
    “Oh, you were drugged, were you?” said Linden caustically. “That certainly adds an irresistibly sordid piquancy to everything. Do you feel all right now?”
    “Oh, yes, thank you,” said Katie. She set down her needlework and took another sip from the clay cup.
    Linden scowled. “What are you drinking?”
    “Milk. It was downstairs. I hope…”
    “Yes, yes, you hope I don’t mind.” Lord Linden took the cup from Katie’s hand and gazed at the curdled contents. “Jesus. This is sour. How long has it been since you’ve eaten anything? No, never mind, I don’t want to know. Finish your jacket and we’ll go out for breakfast. Sour milk. Are you trying to make yourself sick?”
    “No, my lord. I never get sick.”
    “Truly? What a convenient creature you are. You don’t get sick. You don’t cry. Our little misunderstanding of last night aside, is there anything else that you don’t do? Yes, you
ought
to hang your head, that’s the closest I’ve ever come to raping anyone. Throw the milk out now, there’s a good girl.”
    Katie walked over to the clear bay window, opened one hinged pane and dumped the milk outside. Unfortunately, it was not clear sailing to the pavement and Katie, hearing an indignant scream, looked out the window to find that she had tossed the spoiled milk squarely onto the lavender parasol of an elegant young lady who had been taking her morning promenade below.
    “Oh, dear,” said Katie, dragging her head inside hastily. Lord Linden joined her by the window.
    “Oh, dear is right. Are you trying to have me evicted?” said Linden, his dark eyes washed by laughter.
    “But that’s what they do in the Rookery, toss the garbage out the