Read Online The Nightingale Legacy by Catherine Coulter - Free Book Online Page A

North said to the fireplace. “A very bad melodrama, much like the one in London last March where this young man was convinced his love had betrayed him and thus went on a rampage and killed a goat by mistake and—”
    “That is enough, sir!”
    “Actually,” North said gently, “it’s ‘my lord.’ Contrive not to forget your manners, else I will have to challenge you to a duel and wound you and then both you and Owen would be laid up side by side, complaining.”
    “Arrogant young puppy.”
    “Now, that is just fine, so long as you identify me after your string of descriptive words.”
    Caroline stared at the two men, drew herself up, and said, “Mr. Ffalkes, now that you’re here, you will take over Owen’s care. I’m leaving. Lord Chilton, thank you for your assistance. I very much appreciate it.”
    “You’re not going anywhere, my girl!” Mr. Ffalkes grabbed her arm as she walked past him and jerked her about. North watched transfixed as she raised the poker and struck Mr. Ffalkes hard on his shoulder.
    He yowled, releasing her. “You damned bitch, I’ll—”
    She hit him again on his other shoulder, then threw the poker to the floor. She dusted her hands, picked up her valise, and began to pile her clothes into it.
    “You’ve killed me.”
    “No,” she said, not looking at him, “but I wish I had. Leave me alone, Mr. Ffalkes. I will have my solicitor contact you.”
    She picked up her cloak and strode from the bedchamber. Mr. Ffalkes made to go after her, but Owen, emerging from beneath his fortress of blankets, said, “No, Father, do let her go. She won’t wed me and she won’t wed you. She doesn’t care about her reputation. Please, Father, give her her money. End it now and let’s go home.”
    “I won’t give her a bloody sou, and you, you faithless sniveling hound, I will see that you suffer for the muddle you’ve made of everything.”
    “Muddle? Father, I became ill. If I hadn’t become ill, then you would never have found us.”
    “Don’t be a fool, Owen. I know where she’s going. To her aunt Ellie in Cornwall, in a godforsaken place called Trevellas. If I hadn’t found the two of you here, I would have continued on there. It’s better I found you here, though, for that blasted woman would have tried to protect her.”
    North felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. Trevellas? Aunt Ellie? For an instant he felt light-headed, then a searing pain went through him, a pain that would be her pain very soon.
    “It has been quite an experience,” North said to Mr. Ffalkes. He nodded to Owen, who said unexpectedly andwith a good deal of liking, “Thank you, North, for taking care of me. I hope I will see you again. Perhaps you can teach me more strategy at piquet.”
    “Humph,” said his father.
    “Perhaps,” North said. “Good-bye, Owen, Mr. Ffalkes.”
    Mr. Ffalkes gave him a cold bow, saying nothing. He turned to his son and said, “You will remain here, Owen, and keep yourself warm, though how you can bear all those blankets is beyond me. I’m going after Miss Derwent-Jones. She won’t get far. She won’t bring me low this time. I will handle things. I am a man and I am devious and I will see to it.”
    And North thought as he walked down the corridor, Like hell you will.

6
    N ORTH STARED AT Tewksberry, feeling a bolt of deep admiration, and tried to keep himself from laughing out loud.
    “Aye, my lord, you might just look that disgusted, for that little strum—er, miss, left and without paying her shot, just as I said. What am I to do?”
    He should have known, North thought, yes, he should have known. Well, and why should she have to pay for Owen, her hostage? Hostage. He fought again to control his laughter. She’d taken a man hostage. He just shrugged and said, “Her father is upstairs right now with her brother. His name is Mr. Roland Ffalkes. Quite naturally he will cover what’s owing.”
    “But why did she fly off like a bird out of its cage if her