A Reformed Rake Read Online Free Page B

as Father taught me!”
    “You did. See how closely patterned these holes are. What that indicates is that the gun is at fault not the shooter. If you were to aim it here—”He pointed to left of center. “—then I suspect you’d hit the target here .” Again he pointed, this time at the bull’s eye. “Will you try?”
    “I’m to aim for this part of the target?”
    “Yes.”
    Harriet studied the other one. “And with this pistol, I must aim about here. ” This time she pointed.
    “Exactly.” He grinned as if she were a prize student.
    Her voice sharp she said, “I am not stupid, Sir Frederick.”
    “No. Most certainly,” he said softly, “you are not stupid.”
    For a moment tension seemed to grow between them. With great effort Harriet pulled her gaze from his and turned back up the path. She must not allow her feelings to soften. She must not forget the sort of man he was.
    Harriet picked up the gun and turned toward the targets. Again she raised her arm. Carefully she sighted toward the left. She shot—and nothing happened. She pulled the trigger again. She sighed. With a faintly rueful look at Sir Frederick, she muttered, “And I just said I am not stupid!”
    He chuckled. Soon Harriet laughed as well. He took the gun from her. Harriet watched his hands as he deftly loaded it. Such long-fingered, strong-looking hands. He’d make a pianist, she thought. She glanced at her own long fingered hands and suddenly yearned for a piano on which to play out the emotions she could seem to control no other way. The piano had been her salvation when her parents died. Now she needed it again, but for very different emotions.
    Too bad, she thought, that the Vaudrays did not own one!
     

 
    Two
    The few days at the chateau extended to very nearly two weeks. The men had a day’s excellent if careful climbing—spring not the season for such activity—and rode along trails to hidden mountain lakes and falls made incredibly beautiful by the spring thaws. They spent lazy evenings listening to the family’s string trio or to Françoise play on the harpsichord. The music was surprisingly good.
    Frani told Frederick that Miss Cole was her music teacher and that Harri was truly excellent, but no amount of coaxing would make her teacher play before company. It was, asserted the child, frowning prettily, most vexing of her. A quick smile had taken the sting from the words, and Harri’s indulgent grin met by Frani’s wry smile implied it was an old argument between the two.
    Even as they played and rested and enjoyed their stay, the men were consulting with Gerard Vaudray concerning the ladies’ journey.
    “I’d have thought they’d have had armed guards if that devil has harassed them half so much as the little mademoiselle says,” complained Yves.
    “The ladies thought to disappear from Italy with no one the wiser—especially not the unwanted suitor, of course,” answered Gerard. “If they’d gone off with a large entourage, it would have been a proclamation of their intentions. They put it about that they were visiting friends in Varese for a few days.”
    “The ploy didn’t work. One assumes there is a reason it didn’t work,” suggested Frederick, his brows arced questioningly.
    “My thought, as well,” said Gerard, nodding slowly in a manner which, on an older man, Frederick might have stigmatized as pompous. “We’ve questioned Madame la Comtesse’s servants. A young maid will travel no farther. She is infatuated with the comte’s valet, you see,” he finished dryly and proceeded to the complicated project of lighting his long-stemmed clay pipe.
    “One does see, of course,” said Sir Frederick. “Have you been very careful about the guards you’ve hired for when they continue on? One would not wish to find some among them subverted by love of another sort.”
    Gerard frowned and tipped his head. “Love? For the valet ?”
    Frederick chuckled. “I referred to love for money.