Captain Rakehell Read Online Free

house,” Teddy told him, “in the stables. I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”
    “Too late,” Earnshaw replied, looking over the stallion’s ears at the three figures striding into the lantern-lit glade. “Bright as daylight out there, they’ll see me for sure.”
    “My mask from Madame Sophia’s!” Teddy cried, jumping up and down and trying to pluck it out of Lesley’s waistcoat. “Put it on! Quickly!”
    In an effort to calm his brother and Lucifer, who were both just this side of apoplexy, Earnshaw took the leathers in his teeth, drew out the mask and tied it around his head. As he did so, Teddy backed away from the stallion, drew back his arm and slapped him as hard as he could on the rump.
    Snorting and laying back his ears, Lucifer sprang half-up on his hind legs, then shot out of the trees at a full gallop. The Runners crossing the glade gave way as the stallion thundered toward them flinging clods of turf from under his hooves.
    As he turned to duck into the trees, Teddy cast a last glance at Lucifer galloping his brother to safety. At the sight of Lesley rising from his saddle to stand in his stirrups, he began to laugh. And then he began to run.
     

Chapter Three
     
    Warm as the early evening had been, by midnight it was decidedly chilly in the upper reaches of the beech tree. Andrew gallantly gave Amanda his coat, but the thin, satin-lined evening jacket was little protection against the damp in the thick fog gathering at the foot of the old tree.
    “I’ve been thinking,” Amanda whispered, her teeth chattering in her brother’s ear. “I could stay here and keep watch on Jack and Harry while you go for help.”
    “No, Mandy,” Andrew whispered sternly. “I will not leave you unprotected.”
    “I’ll be perfectly safe up here—”
    “No,” Andrew repeated. “It’ll be soon now, I think. If I were the thief, I’d strike while the guests were dining.”
    Almost as he spoke the words, the music drifting from the house stopped, signaling that supper had been announced. A rustle in the shrubbery and a few guttural words exchanged by Harry and Jack confirmed the veracity of Andrew’s statement.
    “We should climb lower,” Amanda whispered, “so we can see their faces.”
    “We’ll do no such thing.”
    “But how will we be able to identify them?”
    “Identifying them is not our responsibility.”
    “Then whose is it, I should like to know?”
    “‘Ere now, what’s that?” Jack growled, the bushes snapping loudly. “You ‘ear somethin’, ‘Arry?”
    Andrew froze, but Amanda didn’t. Seizing the opportunity, she caught an overhead branch and used it to swing herself around the trunk to the opposite side of the tree. Too late, Andrew heard the telltale whisper of her satin skirts. He twisted on the limb to catch her, just as the last torn inch of the hem of her gown slipped out of his reach.
    “There it is a’gin,” Jack said, his tone low and wary. “You ‘ear anythin’, ‘Arry?”
    “Jus’ th’ wind, Jack, murmurin’ in that big ol’ tree.”
    “Th’ wind ain’t blowin’, ya idget.”
    “It ain’t?”
    A thump and howl came from the bushes, as Andrew inched around the trunk and saw Amanda, standing sure-footed on a thick limb several feet below him. As he watched her, she leaned cautiously forward and caught the trailing end of her gown. Drawing the skirt up between her legs, she tucked it into her waist sash.
    Andrew groaned silently. He’d seen his sister secure her skirts thus hundreds of times, usually before flinging herself astraddle onto her pony, climbing into the loft of the barn at Hampton Hall, or wading into the creek. Heaven only knew what she was preparing for now, but whatever it was, it was his duty—as it always had been—to save her from herself. Sighing, he climbed after her.
    The scrape of his foot on a branch above her alerted Amanda to his approach. Flinging a glare at him, she swung herself one limb lower. Andrew held up a