Moon Love Read Online Free

Wolf was a different matter.
    She took the dinner tray up to her father’s bedchamber and stopped at the door, in case he was in one of his moods. It was not unusual to be met by a flying pillow or slipper. Lord Ashworth was in his self-pitying mood that evening. A wrinkled wraith of a man looked up from his pillows with age-dimmed eyes. Long locks of white hair hung over his ears. “Read me a story, Nanny,” he whined.
    She exchanged a meaningful look with Tombey, his aging valet and nurse, who had served him faithfully for half a century. “Of course you shall have a story,” she said. “But first you must eat your dinner. Cook has made you a nice turbot in white sauce.”
    He pouted. “Don’t want turbot. Want plum cake.”
    Plum cake played havoc with Lord Ashworth’s digestion. “No, no. You want a nice blancmange – after you eat your fish,” she said, smiling to entice him.
    Tombey took the tray. “Allow me, Miss Bratty. We are in a bit of a pucker today. You might get the nice blancmange thrown in your face.”
    “Try to get him to take a little of the turbot, Tombey,” she said. “He cannot live on blancmange.”
    “He had some coddled bread and milk this afternoon. Perhaps I can tease a few bites of this into him. I had best get a bib on him first.”
    Amy watched in consternation as Tombey fastened a towel around his neck. As she returned belowstairs, she wondered what the Wolf would think if he could see Lord Ashworth at this moment. She must see that the Wolf and the Cougar never met.
    Her own dinner was waiting for her. Since her stepfather no longer came to the table, Amy usually ate in the morning parlor, unless there was company. This small room with its cozy fireplace and oaken paneling just suited her. Felix Bratty, the son of Ashworth’s younger brother, now deceased, was spending more time at Bratty Hall since Ashworth’s decline, and he insisted on the proper dining room. Amy preferred dining alone. As far as conversation and common sense went, there was little enough to choose between the nephew and his senile uncle.
    It had been Ashworth’s wish, when he was of sound mind, that Felix and Amy should marry. He was not such a tyrant as to force Felix on her, however. He had settled on her a dowry of twenty thousand pounds, fifteen of which had belonged to her mama. She never could decide whether it was the fortune or herself that was the lure to Felix, but he left no doubt that he wanted her to be his wife.
    The turbot was delicious, done in Cook’s special cream sauce. The roast beef that followed it was tender and juicy. Amy cleared her plate, but she hardly tasted her dinner. She was busy trying to discover some way in which she could inveigle the Wolf to include her in his plans without begging.
    She was just leaving the table when Mary, Cook’s flustered young helper, came rushing up to her, blotting at her eyes with the tail of her apron. “Oh Miss Bratty, the rain’s stopped and they’re coming for sure, and Da’s taken another of his turns. I haven’t the nerve to ask you–”
    “It’s quite all right, Mary. I’ll see to it. The usual time and place?”
    “Yes, Miss. All just the same as usual. I’ll not ask you again, Miss. It’s just that we need the money to home, and if Da loses the job–”
    “Yes, yes. I understand. Leave it to me. Now go and tend to the washing up or Cook will be in a pelter.”
    Amy was always delighted to fill in for Jed Hoskins, who was spotsman for the Gentlemen. His job was to scout about to see the Preventiveman was not around when the Gentlemen were bringing in a load, and give the French captain the signal that the coast was clear. In fact, she made it a point to be lurking nearby even when Jed held the lantern that flashed the signal.
    She had first taken on this unlikely role a year ago when she found Mary crying in her room. Mary had told the sad tale that her papa’s gout was acting up, and he couldn’t do his job that night.