Read Online The Bad Baron's Daughter by Laura London - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laura London
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and lavender scent, begging me to stop breaking her heart with my wild ways. My mother can work herself into hysteria rapidly, I assure you. And, it not being possible to slap one’s mother in the face, I’d have to endure a certain amount of it.” He grinned suddenly and looked very young. “Actually,
Grandmère
and I have a lot in common. She’s got Caligula’s own temper, too.”
“Was Caligula one of those Greeks?”
Linden gave his cravat a final pat and came to sit on the bed beside Katie. “No, barbarian. He was a Roman emperor.” He tapped her nose lightly. What a problem this girl was. A short stop at Bow Street had set inquiries in motion concerning the whereabouts of Katie’s father. They had found that there were others interested in this subject: the baron’s creditors. Housing her until her father was found was a problem. Lord Linden could well imagine the reaction of any London hostess requested by him to provide shelter for a young girl of Katie’s glowing beauty and present circumstances. No one would believe he hadn’t made her his mistress. If that wasn’t enough to damn her, her father’s reputation surely would. Baron Kendricks was a notorious cheat, and nothing short of the sponsorship of a duchess would ever open society’s doors to the Bad Baron’s daughter; As he looked down into Katie’s soulful blue eyes, he thought how unfair it was that Katie should be tarnished with her father’s reputation. In spite of her rearing, the girl was an unfledged innocent. It spoke volumes for Katie’s inexperience that she still trusted him after last night.
Katie sat up, hugging her knees. “Is your grandmother’s house far away?”
“No, it’s about four blocks down Bennett Street. Are you afraid to stay here by yourself?”
“No, but I don’t understand why you don’t want to come back here after the party. It will be a lot of trouble for you to stay somewhere else and it would be so easy for me to sleep in the drawing room.”
“Perhaps.” Linden rubbed the back of Katie’s hand with his finger. “Unfortunately, it would also be so easy for me to forget my good resolutions. I’m a dissolute creature, child, and you want to beware.”
The big blue eyes smiled into his trustingly. “You’ve been kinder to me than anyone has before. You know, Lord Linden, about last night…”
“Yes?” He let his finger wander over her wrist.
“If I was going to be anyone’s mistress, I would like to be yours. But you see, when you got tired of me, then I would have to be with just anybody, and I don’t think I could do that.”
Linden rose abruptly from the bed. “Don’t tease yourself about it, child, it doesn’t matter. I’ve got to be off now. Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone. And don’t open the door for anyone; I won’t be back before morning, so if anyone knocks, it won’t be me.” He reached over and chucked her under the chin as she sat, crosslegged, on the bed. “Good-bye now.”
She listened to his steps on the stairway and heard him lock the door behind him. She was alone. Her face brightened with an idea, and she bounced from the bed, skipped across the room, and opened the French doors leading to the balcony. The pigeons scattered with a wild flapping of wings as she leaned over the wrought-iron railing to look for Lord Linden. He was nearly at the corner, sauntering elegantly through the golden evening.
“Enjoy yourself!” she called through cupped hands, and waved. He turned and touched the brim of his top hat with the brass tip of his cane in a farewell gesture, and she watched him, hands on chin, until a slight bend in the street took him out of her sight. The late breeze ruffled playfully at her auburn hair and flapped at the curtains on the French doors behind her, ran in to make a turn around the room, and passed by her again on its way out. She stood idly, in reverie, as the pigeons returned to coo softly at her feet.
“Well,” she
Grandmère
and I have a lot in common. She’s got Caligula’s own temper, too.”
“Was Caligula one of those Greeks?”
Linden gave his cravat a final pat and came to sit on the bed beside Katie. “No, barbarian. He was a Roman emperor.” He tapped her nose lightly. What a problem this girl was. A short stop at Bow Street had set inquiries in motion concerning the whereabouts of Katie’s father. They had found that there were others interested in this subject: the baron’s creditors. Housing her until her father was found was a problem. Lord Linden could well imagine the reaction of any London hostess requested by him to provide shelter for a young girl of Katie’s glowing beauty and present circumstances. No one would believe he hadn’t made her his mistress. If that wasn’t enough to damn her, her father’s reputation surely would. Baron Kendricks was a notorious cheat, and nothing short of the sponsorship of a duchess would ever open society’s doors to the Bad Baron’s daughter; As he looked down into Katie’s soulful blue eyes, he thought how unfair it was that Katie should be tarnished with her father’s reputation. In spite of her rearing, the girl was an unfledged innocent. It spoke volumes for Katie’s inexperience that she still trusted him after last night.
Katie sat up, hugging her knees. “Is your grandmother’s house far away?”
“No, it’s about four blocks down Bennett Street. Are you afraid to stay here by yourself?”
“No, but I don’t understand why you don’t want to come back here after the party. It will be a lot of trouble for you to stay somewhere else and it would be so easy for me to sleep in the drawing room.”
“Perhaps.” Linden rubbed the back of Katie’s hand with his finger. “Unfortunately, it would also be so easy for me to forget my good resolutions. I’m a dissolute creature, child, and you want to beware.”
The big blue eyes smiled into his trustingly. “You’ve been kinder to me than anyone has before. You know, Lord Linden, about last night…”
“Yes?” He let his finger wander over her wrist.
“If I was going to be anyone’s mistress, I would like to be yours. But you see, when you got tired of me, then I would have to be with just anybody, and I don’t think I could do that.”
Linden rose abruptly from the bed. “Don’t tease yourself about it, child, it doesn’t matter. I’ve got to be off now. Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone. And don’t open the door for anyone; I won’t be back before morning, so if anyone knocks, it won’t be me.” He reached over and chucked her under the chin as she sat, crosslegged, on the bed. “Good-bye now.”
She listened to his steps on the stairway and heard him lock the door behind him. She was alone. Her face brightened with an idea, and she bounced from the bed, skipped across the room, and opened the French doors leading to the balcony. The pigeons scattered with a wild flapping of wings as she leaned over the wrought-iron railing to look for Lord Linden. He was nearly at the corner, sauntering elegantly through the golden evening.
“Enjoy yourself!” she called through cupped hands, and waved. He turned and touched the brim of his top hat with the brass tip of his cane in a farewell gesture, and she watched him, hands on chin, until a slight bend in the street took him out of her sight. The late breeze ruffled playfully at her auburn hair and flapped at the curtains on the French doors behind her, ran in to make a turn around the room, and passed by her again on its way out. She stood idly, in reverie, as the pigeons returned to coo softly at her feet.
“Well,” she
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