Lord Fool to the Rescue Read Online Free Page B

last look in the mirror, searching for a hint of the confidence she needed to go forward. A fool looked back. She should have begged the Duke of Stromburg to help her escape the park that morning, before Big John could collect her, but she hadn’t been thinking clearly. Although the duke seemed quite relieved she had a plan and would have no need of his aid, she was certain he would have helped if she’d but asked.
    Lord Fool some called him, though never to his face of course. Some nonsense about the war. But one look in the man’s eyes proved he was no coward. Were people blind?
    Lady Fool blinked like an idiot in the mirror. She had no business lurking about, drumming up courage, when the women of the staff were risking all below stairs, likely quaking in their boots, as anxious to get her away as she was to be gone.
    She shook her head and reached for the door. The evening was slipping away. It was past time.
    Back in her old clothes, she appeared little more than a servant as she made her way down the staircase. She wore a drab lavender gown she’d purchased while in mourning for her mother. A paisley pattern of slightly darker lavender made the fabric appear more like wallpaper than cloth, especially in comparison to the lovely lemon ensemble now stuffed into a carpet bag and hidden in the carriage house.
    Tempest paused at the bottom step to cough, signaling her crew of accomplices to man their stations.
    She would wander through the kitchens to check on supper preparations, then walk out the servant’s door. Penny would toss pig’s fat on the fire for the first distraction while Tempest retrieved her sack. Hilde would run to the end of the block to flag down a hack. Maude was prepared to scream rat the second Ledford began looking for her. If Hilde failed to have a hack waiting, Tempest was quite prepared to walk out of her stepfather’s life if need be. She had money, forged letters of recommendations, and a country destination where she might lay low for a month or so before looking for some sort of employment…as anything but some man’s Mistress.
    But first she needed to get out of the house.
    “Tempest, my dear, is that you?” Ledford called from the large sitting room to her right. Chills snaked up the back of her neck and fanned out into her hair. He would never have spoken to her so cordially unless they had company. He usually called her Temper Temper.
    But she had no time for company.
    The kitchen lay down the hallway to the right. Indecision froze her until she took a deep breath. She would not let another opportunity get away from her. She turned right.
    “Tempest? Join me won’t you? I’m afraid I must…insist.”
    It was the sing-song manner in which he’d said ‘insist’ that stopped her. She’d been caught. She knew it. But surely none of the household would have given her away!
    As long as her sack was well hidden, her plan could still work. Later, after Ledford had gone to sleep, she’d try again. She’d crawl out a window and shimmy down a pipe if necessary, but she would leave tonight, help or no help.
    She pulled back her slumped shoulders and turned toward the drawing room, stopping in the doorway and curtsying to the man who deserved no such respect. Blank faced, she waited for him to speak.
    He sat in her mother’s overstuffed chair smoking a cigar and allowing the ash to drop onto the beloved floral arms. She believed he’d stop smiling if she pretended not to notice. She was wrong. He merely nodded toward the mantle.
    Her yellow gown hung there—the gown that had been in her precious sack!
    If there’d been a fire on the grate, it would have been nothing but a larger pile of ashes than that on her mother’s chair.
    She didn’t dare look at the man until she had her wits back. If he had her gown, he had her money, her forged references, her destination. He’d know Hilde’s family was prepared to hide her. Hilde would be made to pay. But she wouldn’t allow that to