Beguiled Read Online Free Page A

with small panniers and puffed sleeves. The ensemble was stylishly feminine, with one outrageous exception: a man’s cravat, tied in intricate loops, cascaded from her neck. Her father, dressed in his tartan kilt and black velvet coat, and her brother, garbed in a brown frock coat and knee breeches, wore identical scarves. How interesting, Agnes thought, that the earl indulged his daughter. Had he tied the scarves himself?
    The children squirmed. The earl glanced at the front doors. He’d done that often since Agnes joined them. He should have chosen the table in the far corner, between the kitchen and the side exit. She’d apprise him of that later.
    Christopher wadded his napkin. “You’ve botched it now, Hannah.”
    â€œHave not.”
    â€œBoth of you will stop bickering or forfeit your dessert.”
    The lad dropped his fork. “She started it, Father. She kicked me.”
    â€œHe pinched me with his crepit thumb.” Turning and holding the back of her chair, the four-year-old Hannah scrambled to her feet and pulled up her dress. Twin bruises the size of a lad’s thumb and fingertip marred her chubby thigh. “See?”
    Murmurs rumbled from a table nearby, but the earl didn’t seem to care that others were observing him in the act of disciplining his children.
    How uncommon and welcome.
    â€œSit down, Hannah.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
    Agnes choked back laughter. The earl’s eyes snapped open, and he stared at her, startled.
    Words failed her, and with alarm, she worried that he might change his mind about taking her with him. He had not mentioned it today, and her father had been present during his brief doctorly visits. She must not give him any reason to withdraw his offer. Leaving Edinburgh in his company posed her best escape from her father. Once they were settled in Glasgow, Edward would come to appreciate her expertise. For now she must appease him.
    She scanned the diners. Her sister Lottie occupied a table with the mayor of Edinburgh, but they were blessedly out of earshot. Two clergymen sat near the hearth and cast disapproving glances at both the earl and Agnes.
    â€œHave we mortified you, Lady Agnes?” The earl popped a last bite of bread into his mouth.
    â€œMortify me? Impossible. My family is quite large,” she began by way of honest explanation. “We often bickered and usually embarrassed our parents. Yet we were welcome at table.”
    That got Christopher’s attention. “What if the king came to visit you?”
    Agnes pretended to ponder it. Putting down her cup and keeping a straight face, she said, “Then I would have sat close by His Majesty and discovered if he talks with his mouth full.”
    Hannah erupted with giggles. Christopher guffawed. The earl made an admirable effort to contain his laughter. He failed, and when humor overcame him, Agnes felt her heart tumble in her breast. Edward Napier didn’t laugh often, she was certain of that. But what man could with an assassin on his heels? Agnes would ease his burden and in the doing gain a respite from the guilt that weighted her soul.
    When he’d mastered his mirth, he said, “I’m glad you can speak kindly of the duke of Ross.”
    The duke of Ross. The battle between Agnes and her father had been years in the making, but no matter their difficulties, she loved him deeply. A final resolution would come; she lived every day of her life with that goal in mind, but the separation was pure torment.
    Quietly, she said, “He’s the best man o’ the Highlands.”
    A hush fell over the table. Into the silence Lord Edward said, “I cannot argue that, nor would I try. But I am encouraged to know that all of us poor Scotsmen below the Highland Line have a prize of our own at which to aim.”
    At his engaging remark, her melancholy fled. “Are you the best man o’ the Lowlands?”
    â€œOh,