Read Online The Earl With the Secret Tattoo by Kieran Kramer - Free Book Online
Authors: Kieran Kramer
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trust Lord Tumbridge? Should she?
Hesitating a fraction, Eleanor picked up her reticule, which hung from the side of
her full-length looking glass and still held the talisman. Heavens! She’d come so
close to losing the small token.
And then she crossed to her dressing table, where she took her sharpest hat pin and
stuck it into the flimsy velvet pouch. Yes, she told herself. She’d have to trust Lord Tumbridge; she’d have to focus on the
part of him that had saved her and her friends during that robbery.
But she didn’t have to be naïve about it.
When she opened her bedchamber door, she stood for a very long time and listened to
the sounds of the house. What she was about to do tonight was far scarier than crossing
that creek Papa had long ago urged her to do.
Finally, when she was as sure as she could be that everyone was abed, she stepped
out into the corridor, walked swiftly past Clare’s bedchamber, down the stairs, and
out the front door, shutting it quietly behind her.
It was time. Time to trust her instincts.
<#>
James was in the middle of a dream about fishing with his father, but Lady Eleanor
was there, too. A fish kept knocking into the boat, a big fish, one he wanted to catch
to impress Lady Eleanor and Father. But he couldn’t see it—
Knock, knock, knock.
Knock, knock, knock!
His eyes flew open and he jumped out of bed. Literally sprang out and landed on his
feet like a cat.
Someone was at the front door.
He wrapped a silk banyan around him and opened his bedchamber door. There was a candle
in the hallway—one of the servants was already on his or her way.
“I’ve got it, Michael,” he said to the footman.
“Very well, sir,” said Michael, and handed him the candle.
Knock, knock, knock!
James hurried down the stairs and opened the front door. Lady Eleanor Gibbs landed
against him with a light thud.
He put out his arms to stop her fall. Catching her was much better than landing a big fish.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I—I’m so sorry. I’d put my ear against the door to hear if someone
was coming, and then you opened it—”
“It’s all right,” he soothed her.
For a brief second, he got the feeling she didn’t want him to let her go. He didn’t
want to, either. It was the last thing in the world he wanted, in fact.
But he must.
Gently, he placed her upright on the scarlet-and-gold carpet. “My dear Lady Eleanor,
what’s wrong?”
Concern filled him, followed swiftly by fury. Who’d put her in such a state?
She swallowed, and then she began to tremble.
“Steady.” He put his hands on her small, soft shoulders, so temptingly hidden beneath
a navy blue cape.
“Please just give me a moment.” Her tone was staunch. “I’ll be all right.”
“May I take your cape?”
“I—I can’t,” she said, and put her arms through the slits in the fabric to show him
that they were encased in pink muslin and lace. From her left wrist dangled a small
reticule with a pearl-tipped pin stuck through its folds. “I’m afraid I’m in my night
rail.”
“That’s all right,” he said as if it weren’t significant in the least that she’d appeared
at his door en déshabillé . “Keep it on, then.”
But he did ask for her bonnet.
“Of course.” When she removed it, she looked more vulnerable than ever. Her hair fell
over her shoulder in a braid, and it was slightly mussed—as if she’d run to his house
straight from her bed.
Good Lord. What had happened? “Let me get you a chair,” he said. “A glass of ratafia.
Something.”
“A chair would be lovely. And perhaps a fire, if you still have one. And I’ll say
no to the ratafia, but thank you.”
He took her arm, and she didn’t object. Michael was still at the top of the stairs.
“A fire, Michael,” said James. “In the library. And some tea, if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, my lord.” Michael hastened down the stairs, a jacket thrown over his
Hesitating a fraction, Eleanor picked up her reticule, which hung from the side of
her full-length looking glass and still held the talisman. Heavens! She’d come so
close to losing the small token.
And then she crossed to her dressing table, where she took her sharpest hat pin and
stuck it into the flimsy velvet pouch. Yes, she told herself. She’d have to trust Lord Tumbridge; she’d have to focus on the
part of him that had saved her and her friends during that robbery.
But she didn’t have to be naïve about it.
When she opened her bedchamber door, she stood for a very long time and listened to
the sounds of the house. What she was about to do tonight was far scarier than crossing
that creek Papa had long ago urged her to do.
Finally, when she was as sure as she could be that everyone was abed, she stepped
out into the corridor, walked swiftly past Clare’s bedchamber, down the stairs, and
out the front door, shutting it quietly behind her.
It was time. Time to trust her instincts.
<#>
James was in the middle of a dream about fishing with his father, but Lady Eleanor
was there, too. A fish kept knocking into the boat, a big fish, one he wanted to catch
to impress Lady Eleanor and Father. But he couldn’t see it—
Knock, knock, knock.
Knock, knock, knock!
His eyes flew open and he jumped out of bed. Literally sprang out and landed on his
feet like a cat.
Someone was at the front door.
He wrapped a silk banyan around him and opened his bedchamber door. There was a candle
in the hallway—one of the servants was already on his or her way.
“I’ve got it, Michael,” he said to the footman.
“Very well, sir,” said Michael, and handed him the candle.
Knock, knock, knock!
James hurried down the stairs and opened the front door. Lady Eleanor Gibbs landed
against him with a light thud.
He put out his arms to stop her fall. Catching her was much better than landing a big fish.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I—I’m so sorry. I’d put my ear against the door to hear if someone
was coming, and then you opened it—”
“It’s all right,” he soothed her.
For a brief second, he got the feeling she didn’t want him to let her go. He didn’t
want to, either. It was the last thing in the world he wanted, in fact.
But he must.
Gently, he placed her upright on the scarlet-and-gold carpet. “My dear Lady Eleanor,
what’s wrong?”
Concern filled him, followed swiftly by fury. Who’d put her in such a state?
She swallowed, and then she began to tremble.
“Steady.” He put his hands on her small, soft shoulders, so temptingly hidden beneath
a navy blue cape.
“Please just give me a moment.” Her tone was staunch. “I’ll be all right.”
“May I take your cape?”
“I—I can’t,” she said, and put her arms through the slits in the fabric to show him
that they were encased in pink muslin and lace. From her left wrist dangled a small
reticule with a pearl-tipped pin stuck through its folds. “I’m afraid I’m in my night
rail.”
“That’s all right,” he said as if it weren’t significant in the least that she’d appeared
at his door en déshabillé . “Keep it on, then.”
But he did ask for her bonnet.
“Of course.” When she removed it, she looked more vulnerable than ever. Her hair fell
over her shoulder in a braid, and it was slightly mussed—as if she’d run to his house
straight from her bed.
Good Lord. What had happened? “Let me get you a chair,” he said. “A glass of ratafia.
Something.”
“A chair would be lovely. And perhaps a fire, if you still have one. And I’ll say
no to the ratafia, but thank you.”
He took her arm, and she didn’t object. Michael was still at the top of the stairs.
“A fire, Michael,” said James. “In the library. And some tea, if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, my lord.” Michael hastened down the stairs, a jacket thrown over his
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