Mistletoe and Mischief Read Online Free

hazards likely to face him on this journey. He had never thought that they must avoid, at all costs, not only the inns where he habitually stayed, but also the ones in which Miss Davenport had stopped with her erstwhile fiancé. With little hope, he wondered what comfort would be left to them.
    Without another word to her, he lowered the window again and called up to his coachman, “I have changed my mind, Timothy. I want you to stop in Appleby, after all!”
    “Very good, yer lordship.” Timothy sounded so relieved that Charles was reminded of how disagreeable this trip must have been for his coachman, as well. At least he and Miss Davenport had four walls to shelter them from the north wind and furs to keep out the worst of the cold. But poor Timothy had nothing but his layered capes and rugs. He must be nearly frozen by now.
    These thoughts reconciled Charles to the need to stop even more than the welcome prospect of getting treatment for the pain in his head.
    Miss Davenport's voice came again from the dark. “Have you given any thought to how we should present ourselves, Lord Wroxton? “
    Charles grimaced wryly. “I'm afraid I have not, Miss Davenport. But with my crest on my carriage, I can hardly present myself as anyone other than who I am.”
    “Precisely what I was thinking, my lord,” she said. And with rather excessive cheerfulness, Charles thought. “ And if I might make a few suggestions, I think we may overcome any suspicion of our circumstances.”
    “Pray go ahead, Miss Davenport. I am all ears. I trust you shall inform me of any other villages we must avoid on our journey, as well.”
    Ignoring the irony in his tone, she said, “Willingly, my lord. Well, as I was saying, I think it would be best if we said I was your cousin, Louisa, and you were escorting me home for Christmas when our baggage coach broke down outside Carlisle.
    “I considered being your niece,” she confided, “but I hardly think that would serve.”
    Charles gave a sardonic laugh. “Hardly,” he said, “when every rake-shame in England uses that feeble relationship to cover his liaisons.”
    “Do they?” She sounded most impressed with his knowledge. “I did not know. I was thinking merely that it would be possible for you to be my uncle, but highly unlikely. How old are you, in fact?”
    “I am six and twenty. But what has that to say to anything?”
    “If I am to be your cousin, Lord Wroxton, I shall have to know much more about you than your age! I shall have to address you by your Christian name, and you shall have to remember to call me Louisa. You mustn't think about offending me.”
    “I shall endeavour not to worry about offending you, Miss Davenport. And what else, in your opinion, must I do or not do?”
    A pause told him that his rudeness had not escaped her. Charles started to apologize, but her next words cut him off.
    “I know you are vexed, Lord Wroxton, “ she said in a subdued tone. “If I seem too imperious, it is because I fear deception is not one of your virtues. I hate to admit that it is one of mine; but the truth is, on my way northward, I learned quite a bit about the sort of dissimulation required on such a journey. And this one might be even more complicated.”
    “0h?” Charles felt a sinking in his stomach. “And why is that?”
    “Because I have no baggage with me. Perhaps you did not notice.”
    Charles leaned his forehead on one hand and emitted a sigh. “No, I did not. How stupid of me.”
    Her tone was very understanding. “I daresay you did not have time to notice. But I had to leave my boxes at the inn to slip past Geoffrey. If I had carried even one of them, I should certainly have been remarked. As it was, the owner's wife thought I had gone to meet him at the blacksmith's shop.
    “But now,” she said, “I begin to regret not having smuggled at least one gown out of my room. It's a pity, but there's nothing that can be done about it. It serves no purpose to look