Read Online The Curious Rogue by Joan Vincent - Free Book Online

Waddington said sternly. “Truly, I cannot believe it is you speaking this way. You are generally of a kind nature and the gentleman was good enough to assist us.”
    “And insult us,” Miss Jeffries returned, recalling the man’s highly egotistical manners.
    “Ladies, ladies.” Sir Henry handed them each a glass of brandy. “Let us drink to... to my powder. Good. Now go and refresh yourselves and then you shall give me a proper explanation.” The stern note in his voice was not to be disobeyed.
    Excusing themselves, the pair withdrew to their rooms.
    * * * *
    Standing before her looking glass, Elizabeth was forced to smile, then laugh, at the image reflected back. The feathers of her poke bonnet were bent askew and coated with a film of white. Her face was streaked, for she had attempted to rid herself of most of the powder on it.
    If it were black, I’d look the proper chimney sweep, she joked silently seeing that the chalk and flour mixture had managed a complete covering.
    “Why, even my , cap...” Elizabeth began as she untied her bonnet. Her jaw flexed with the remembrance of the overdressed Frenchman’s words about lines coming to her features. Dropping the bonnet to the floor, she stalked to the washbasin and gave her face a thorough scrubbing, then returned to her mirror. Carefully studying her features, she started when she heard someone enter.
    “I didn’t mean to frighten you, miss,” apologized young Martha Spense who acted as Elizabeth’s abigail when she stayed with her uncle. “My, what a...”
    “An absurd sight,” Elizabeth finished for her, laughing. “Come, Spense, unfasten me. You know, I never realized how fortunate we are that powdered hair has gone out of style. I cannot imagine how my uncle tolerates having his done,” she said, stepping out of her gown.
    “‘Twas fortunate no one was injured,” Martha offered, news of the accident having reached below-stairs quickly.
    “Yes,” her mistress mused, handing her the frilled spinster’s cap. “After you lay out my fresh garments, you can take these things away. They need more than a simple washing to save them.”
    Martha hurried to get new petticoats and a fresh gown from the wardrobe and then slowly picked up the dust-laden garments. Pausing at the door before she left, she gave Miss Jeffries a second glance.
    Never before had she noticed her mistress give but cursory inspection to her appearance while all other ladies dawdled hours away. But now her mistress seemed drawn to the looking glass, passing a hand across her cheeks and contemplating herself closely. “I’ll be right back, miss,” Spense offered, wondering if she should stay. The accident evidently had upset her mistress more than she allowed.
    “Oh, that is all right. I can manage,” Elizabeth told her gazing into the mirror. When the door closed, she made an impulsive grimace.
    “That’s for you, Comtede Cavilon,” she said. “Lines on my face, bah. They will come sooner to yours.” Her thoughts continued on the Frenchman as she dressed.
    “It almost seemed,” Elizabeth wondered aloud, “that he recognized me... knew me. No,” she shook her head, “I must be mistaken.”
    I would never have forgotten an odious character such as he if I had encountered him before this day , Miss Jeffries thought. She left her room and walked slowly towards the small salon to join her uncle.
    * * * *
    Lady Waddington paused at the door of the salon, struck by a subtle difference in Elizabeth as she sat visiting with her brother.
    “Ah, Madeline, now we may hear the whole of this,” Sir Henry greeted his sister, rising. Retaking his seat after she sat, he adjusted his collar and stock. “Elizabeth was telling me that a high-perch phaeton caused your mishap.
    “So many of these young bloods today have no respect for man or beast when they drive those out-landish vehicles. Why, they aspire to join the Four-in-Hand Club without first learning to master a pony cart,