Read Online The Counterfeit Gentleman by Charlotte Louise Dolan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charlotte Louise Dolan
Tags: Regency Romance
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Taking a bowl out of the cupboard, Mr. Rendel filled it from the iron kettle hanging above the fire, then set it down in front of her, the very casualness of his manner dispelling the dark thoughts from her mind.
The kedgeree he offered her was not what she was accus tomed to eating first thing in the morning. She was used to hot chocolate and a shirred egg and two slices of toast lightly spread with marmalade, not rice cooked with lentils and smoked fish.
But although the food was peasant fare, the bowl Mr. Rendel handed her was fine bone china and the spoon he gave her was sterling, as were the candlesticks on the table. And the candles were wax, not tallow.
While they ate in silence, she wondered again at the in congruities and inconsistencies of this man, whose polished manners were also more suited to a London drawing room than to a peasant’s cottage.
When she finally pushed her bowl away, feeling remark ably restored in body and in spirit by the simple repast, there came a knock at the door—a sharp rat-tat, which immediately destroyed all her hard-won equanimity.
“Stay here,” Mr. Rendel ordered her, as if he thought she could actually have forced her legs to move. She waited, trembling in her chair, while he opened the door a crack and spoke to someone outside.
A few moments later, he returned to the table and tossed some articles of clothing down on it. Boy’s clothing, she saw, and somehow the sight of it made her realize just ex actly what she had gotten herself into.
“I think you are being remarkably foolish to insist upon coming with us,” Mr. Rendel said, and it was no more than she herself was thinking.
With the hour for action at hand, Bethia could not find the same reckless courage she’d had in the middle of the night. But weighed against the fear she now felt at the thought of confronting her two abductors was the even more paralyzing fear of being left alone.
Doing her best to show more determination than she was actually feeling, she said, “Since it is obvious that I have become an intolerable burden to you, I will not trouble you any longer. If you will but loan me some money, I shall take a stagecoach back to London and pick one of my eager suitors at random and marry him.”
Digory cursed under his breath. Apparently, Miss Pep perell had had a better night’s sleep than he’d had. Her spir its were greatly restored even if her common sense appeared to be still woefully deficient.
With an effort Digory kept his own voice calm. “I have no wish for you to leap blindly into marriage with a stranger, especially one who may turn out to be a villain, and I have never even hinted or implied that you should do such a foolish thing.”
Grudgingly, she nodded her head.
“The only thing I am objecting to this morning is taking you along on this expedition. You will have to be patient with me if I do not appear overjoyed at the prospect of putting you back into danger. Having saved your life once, I confess I am not looking forward to doing it a second time.”
Miss Pepperell bit her lip and looked as if she were about to burst into tears, which only made Digory feel like a miserable cur, deserving only of a kick.
“I do not mean to be a burden,” she said. “It is just that I feel safer when I am with you.”
A single tear escaped to run down her cheek and past her quivering lips, and Digory would have liked to take her in his arms and comfort her. But there was even more danger in that direction, so instead he left her alone to finish her breakfast while he changed out of the ridiculous clothes of a gentleman.
Once again wearing the smock and breeches of a smug gler, he emerged from his bedroom, and the sight of his guest sitting there looking quite bereft and dejected made him feel like some sort of monster. Wholly against his better judgment, he said, “I must own, I will undoubtedly be easier in my mind if I have you where I can see you. So you might as well see if those
The kedgeree he offered her was not what she was accus tomed to eating first thing in the morning. She was used to hot chocolate and a shirred egg and two slices of toast lightly spread with marmalade, not rice cooked with lentils and smoked fish.
But although the food was peasant fare, the bowl Mr. Rendel handed her was fine bone china and the spoon he gave her was sterling, as were the candlesticks on the table. And the candles were wax, not tallow.
While they ate in silence, she wondered again at the in congruities and inconsistencies of this man, whose polished manners were also more suited to a London drawing room than to a peasant’s cottage.
When she finally pushed her bowl away, feeling remark ably restored in body and in spirit by the simple repast, there came a knock at the door—a sharp rat-tat, which immediately destroyed all her hard-won equanimity.
“Stay here,” Mr. Rendel ordered her, as if he thought she could actually have forced her legs to move. She waited, trembling in her chair, while he opened the door a crack and spoke to someone outside.
A few moments later, he returned to the table and tossed some articles of clothing down on it. Boy’s clothing, she saw, and somehow the sight of it made her realize just ex actly what she had gotten herself into.
“I think you are being remarkably foolish to insist upon coming with us,” Mr. Rendel said, and it was no more than she herself was thinking.
With the hour for action at hand, Bethia could not find the same reckless courage she’d had in the middle of the night. But weighed against the fear she now felt at the thought of confronting her two abductors was the even more paralyzing fear of being left alone.
Doing her best to show more determination than she was actually feeling, she said, “Since it is obvious that I have become an intolerable burden to you, I will not trouble you any longer. If you will but loan me some money, I shall take a stagecoach back to London and pick one of my eager suitors at random and marry him.”
Digory cursed under his breath. Apparently, Miss Pep perell had had a better night’s sleep than he’d had. Her spir its were greatly restored even if her common sense appeared to be still woefully deficient.
With an effort Digory kept his own voice calm. “I have no wish for you to leap blindly into marriage with a stranger, especially one who may turn out to be a villain, and I have never even hinted or implied that you should do such a foolish thing.”
Grudgingly, she nodded her head.
“The only thing I am objecting to this morning is taking you along on this expedition. You will have to be patient with me if I do not appear overjoyed at the prospect of putting you back into danger. Having saved your life once, I confess I am not looking forward to doing it a second time.”
Miss Pepperell bit her lip and looked as if she were about to burst into tears, which only made Digory feel like a miserable cur, deserving only of a kick.
“I do not mean to be a burden,” she said. “It is just that I feel safer when I am with you.”
A single tear escaped to run down her cheek and past her quivering lips, and Digory would have liked to take her in his arms and comfort her. But there was even more danger in that direction, so instead he left her alone to finish her breakfast while he changed out of the ridiculous clothes of a gentleman.
Once again wearing the smock and breeches of a smug gler, he emerged from his bedroom, and the sight of his guest sitting there looking quite bereft and dejected made him feel like some sort of monster. Wholly against his better judgment, he said, “I must own, I will undoubtedly be easier in my mind if I have you where I can see you. So you might as well see if those
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