Read Online The Major and the Pickpocket by Lucy Ashford - Free Book Online Page A

questioningly towards the black-gowned Caro Blakesley as she came to join him. Hal’s sister was one of the kindest, sweetest people he knew, and the death of her husband in a riding accident a year ago was a tragedy she had borne with dignity. Now he asked her, quickly, ‘Is she awake, Caro? She’s not ill, is she?’
    ‘She seems well, Marcus. I think the girl slept for so long simply because she was totally exhausted, and weak with hunger, poor thing. I took her a hot meal and told her to rest. She was most grateful.’
    Marcus’s grey eyes narrowed. ‘Grateful? Are you sure of that?’
    ‘Yes! Contrary to what you said, she seems to me to have a shy but sweet nature. Her name is Tassie. I was quite enchanted by—’
    Marcus broke in. ‘Caro. You did lock the door to her room again, didn’t you?’
    Caro hesitated. ‘Why, no, I did not. It seems so hard to keep her a prisoner, when she is such a meek, gentle thing! She was an orphan, you know, brought up in the country…’
    But Marcus was no longer listening, because he was already heading for the hallway.
    He caught Tassie at the top of the stairs. She turned to run, but he was on her in seconds, grasping her firmly as her arms and legs flailed amidst the loose folds of her voluminous nightdress. Breathing hard, a little tooconscious of her strikingly feminine form beneath the enveloping garment, Marcus carted her back down the corridor and threw her on to the four-poster bed, then very firmly shut the door. Outside, the February dusk was gathering into chilly darkness; he quickly closed the curtains, and lit a candle from the low-burning fire, while Tassie lay there glaring at him.
    He went to stand over her, his hands on his hips, and said in a voice calculated to frighten her far more than any ranting or raving, ‘I was informed that you were resting.’
    ‘Yes. Yes, I was!’
    ‘Caro—like her brother, Hal—is good, and kind, and far too trusting.’
    Tassie heaved herself up. ‘Caro—that lady—she is Hal’s sister?’
    ‘Of course. Why, what else could she be?’
    Tassie muttered, ‘I thought she was p’raps the housekeeper here.’
    ‘Housekeeper!’
    ‘Well, how was I supposed to know different? Nobody said!’ She felt her heart thumping rather hard again, but tossed back her loose hair defiantly. ‘Any rate, one thing’s for sure: Caro is kinder than you!’
    ‘Certainly I’m not so easily taken in by a cunning trickster.’ He smiled dangerously. ‘Trying to escape, were you? Decided to do a runner?’
    Tassie bit her lip. She certainly wasn’t going to try to run past him, even if he did have a limp. She was nearly as tall as Lemuel, but this man towered over her, six foot of hardened muscle, shoulders forbiddingly broad beneath his riding coat, strong booted legs set firmly apart. Major Marcus Forrester. All ready for action, she thought rather faintly. His long dark hair was tied loosely back from his face in a way that only emphasisedthe implacable set of his jaw, the iron glint in his grey eyes. And she couldn’t help but remember his kiss…One way or another, she really was in trouble. Time for desperate measures.
    Slowly she pulled herself up off the bed. She let a couple of tears pool in her eyes, then, as soon as she guessed he’d noticed them, she looked away and swallowed. ‘It’s a bit difficult to explain. You see, I—I was just going to look for the serving maid who brought me my food. I was hoping she would help me. It is my monthly time, sir, and—and…’
    Instantly Marcus’s face was all concern. He said, ‘Dear God, how stupid of me. You mean Emilia: I shall fetch her to you straight away, with all that you require.’
    Tassie blushed shyly and glanced up at him from beneath demurely lowered lashes. ‘My thanks.’
    But then, suddenly, his eyes flashed with anger and he sprang towards her. ‘By God, you impudent wench,’ he roared, ‘is there no end to your trickery?’
    He’d grabbed her by the