Read Online The Defiant Lady Pencavel by Diane Scott Lewis - Free Book Online Page B

But, alas, he wasn’t handsome at all, and distinctly drunk, judging by the way he weaved.
    “Eh, are you speaking of archeological excavations?” Fernworthy leered at her. “But you’re a woman, in case you haven’t noticed. No women are allowed there. Bad form to even think of it.”
    “Thank goodness.” The duchess clasped her chest. “Grave digging is reprehensible, and filthy. Once someone’s in the ground, they need to stay there.”
    “Bodies are needed for medical science!” the drunk on the block announced in a slurred voice. “Even if it is against the law.”
    “Would any women be allowed to even witness an excavation?” Aunt Hedra persisted, then whispered to her male friend, “Make it sound as odious as possible.”
    “Well, I am a botanist not an archeologist, but I can say, without any qualm, that no woman would be allowed anywhere near such a... odious undertaking. Too dusty, and dangerous. And I hear the ones in Pompeii have lewd graffiti on the walls.” Fernworthy eyed Melwyn as if she sprouted two noses. “Be a good girl and go home, marry and have a dozen children.”
    “Botany? An overrated gardener? Many women have excelled in that vocation, sir. Such as the Countess of Strathmore.” Melwyn smiled, while inside she cringed. She walked away from the supercilious gnome. “And women are multi-talented. I’ve read that in America, the natives strap their babies to their backs, and continue to weave baskets, create beaded necklaces, work in the fields, and skin buffalo.”
    “All womanly tasks, so your example falls flat.” Fernworthy snorted, then confided to Hedra, “No one will marry her, unless they’d first cut out her argumentative tongue. They never should have taught women to read, therefore to think, and dare to speak on subjects they know nothing about, very bad form. The Royal Society, founded in the previous century, is full of philosophers who promote knowledge, but not for addle-brained females.”
    “I take exception to that, Mr. Fernworthy. Why keep women ignorant, so men may dominate us? It shores up your own insecurities and proves your lack of enlightened moral fiber.” Melwyn glared at the pompous botanist. “I shall send you a copy of Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman: with Strictures on Political and Moral Subjects .”
    “And she’s witty, lovely to look at, and luscious to kiss, I’ll be bound,” the drunk crooned as he swayed.
    Melwyn eyed the soused speaker in annoyance. “Stay out of this, sir! You are clearly foundering in your cups.”
    The stranger jumped from the block, snatched Melwyn around the waist, and ran to a waiting horse hidden behind a tree. He hoisted her up, climbed on behind her, discarded his ugly mask, and rode off, holding her tightly.
    “That inebriated fellow just tore off his own face!” The duchess swooned and Fernworthy caught her, but they rolled to the ground like two water-filled sheep’s bladders.
    “Very curious, indeed.” Aunt Hedra raised her quizzing glass and glared at the departing stallion. “That man looks peculiarly familiar.”
    Melwyn struggled for breath, in much too much shock to think rationally as she wriggled to be free of muscular arms.
     
    Chapter Seven
     
     
    She felt so soft and warm against him, though she squiggled so much Griffin could barely concentrate on the galloping stallion between his thighs.
    “Hold still, you hellion! I don’t wish to harm you.” He grimaced. “But if you keep struggling, I may have to.”
    “Unhand me, sir. What in darnation do you think you’re doing?” Miss Pencavel pinched at his fingers through his suede leather gloves. “I am completely flummoxed, and much put out, and these coincidences are becoming pathetic.”
    Griffin slowed his horse on the other side of the huge expanse of Hyde Park, near the brick edifice of Kensington Palace, a renovated Jacobean mansion now used by lesser royalty. “I’m kidnapping you, you