A Dangerous Love Read Online Free Page A

already.” Helena closed the door. “I can’t believe she did it. Papa doesn’t surprise me, but Juliet—”
    “I know. Wait until I get my hands on the foolish child. Where is she, anyway?”
    Helena shot her a cautious look. “She’s gone to bed, and you should wait until your temper cools.”
    Reluctantly, Rosalind acknowledged the wisdom of that. At the moment she was liable to throttle the girl. “I suppose Mr. Knighton is ensconced in a guest room?”
    Her sister limped toward the grand staircase that led up to the first floor and their bedrooms. “He has retired for the night. Everyone has retired but us.”
    Rosalind scowled as she followed her sister. “I swear, if I’d been free, I might very well have barred him from the house.”
    “Which is why Papa had Juliet lock you in. You’ve lost now. Best to admit it.”

    “The man isn’t the least respectable.”
    “So you say, but he isn’t that bad. You might even like him.”
    “I doubt that.” As they climbed the stairs, Rosalind slowed her steps to match her sister’s awkward progress. “Tell me more. Does he speak like a gentleman or is he as coarse as I feared? Does he favor Papa in looks?”
    “Not at all. He’s rather massive and fair, nothing like the miniature Papa showed us of his father. His hair is blond with brown streaks, and he wears it long, like a lion’s mane. His features are appealing, but they—” She broke off with a blush. “You’ll see for yourself in the morning.”
    At the top, Rosalind regarded her sister thoughtfully. Helena never spared a glance for any man. “Well, if I don’t show up at breakfast, come release me from the pantry or wherever Papa has told Juliet to stuff me.”
    Helena smiled tiredly. “Very well. And now I think I’ll retire. I’m all done in.” Patting Rosalind’s hand, she added, “Do try not to worry.”
    “I’ll try.” As Helena entered her bedchamber, Rosalind went into her own across the hall, grateful to be once more amid its familiar, comfortable clutter. But long after the half-asleep maid helped her undress and departed, Rosalind lay awake in her bed.
    How could she not worry? They’d welcomed a scoundrel into their home, one Papa didn’t even trust, or he wouldn’t have asked her to—
    The strongbox! Curse it, Papa had said to move it to her room tonight!
    Rosalind leapt from the bed and donned her wrapper. Since their guest had already retired, she could slip downstairs and fetch the box without anyone knowing. Snatching up the candle besideher bed, she hurried into the hall and toward the staircase.
    She was halfway down the stairs and had rounded the landing when she noticed that a light shone beneath the closed door to Papa’s study. She halted abruptly, her pulse quickening. No one should be about at this hour, not even the servants.
    It had to be their guest. Was he lost? Or looking for something? Her lips thinned into a grim line. The strongbox. Papa had been right to worry. How dared Mr. Knighton sneak about looking for Papa’s private papers! She’d set the villain straight, she would!
    Racing down the stairs, she headed right for the study. She eased the door open, peeked in, and froze. The single candle lighting her father’s desk also lit a man crouched behind it. He was clearly not their blond guest, for his hair was black as a gypsy’s.
    A gypsy! She jerked back, her heart thundering. Gypsies had recently plagued Warwickshire, but never Swan Park. Outrage swelled through her as she heard a drawer sliding open and its contents being searched. How dared he paw through Papa’s desk!
    She quelled her impulse to rush in. Even she wasn’t so impetuous as all that. If only she had a weapon, something to hold him at bay while she sounded the alarm. Otherwise, he’d bolt with whatever he’d stolen—perhaps even Papa’s precious strongbox.
    She lifted her candle to scan the hallway. Some paintings, a spindly chair or two, and a bronze statuette too small