Mr. Dalrymple Revealed Read Online Free

Father, I am,” she answered quietly. Without prompting,
she began the Act of Contrition. “ Deus meus, ex toto corde poenitet me
omnium meorum peccatorum --”
    Kate crossed herself and left the confessional. After
finished her penance, she slipped out of the pew and walked down the aisle with
the light heart which comes from a clear conscience. At the door of the
chapel, she moved absently to the ancient stone basin of holy water. As she
dipped her fingers in the water, a large, masculine hand reached from behind,
grabbed her wrist, and held it hard.
    Her instinct to fight, she curled her hand into a fist, moving
her arm up and away, but his strength was the greater. As the two struggled
silently, the lacy fall at his shirtcuff fell back, but Kate didn’t need to see
the nasty set of teeth marks on his wrist to realize who held her.
    “What a pleasure it is to see you again, Lady Highwayman.”
     
    *****
     
    “How dare you accost me so, sir! We have not met!”
    Edmund, highly appreciative of the performance, took her hand
and looped it over his arm.
    "Then do allow me to present myself,” he said cheerfully.
"The Honorable Frederick Dalrymple, at your service.”
    Pressing his arm to his side, imprisoning her hand, he
strolled out the door of the church into the ancient graveyard. The Lady
Katherine, though tense, went without argument. Edmund was unwise enough to
take this as a sign of cringing acquiescence.
    Had anyone been watching, they would have noted the rather odd
couple, this youngish spinster, dressed in a respectable, though sadly dowdy,
muslin gown and bonnet. The man at her side was wonderfully attired in a suit
of rose, with a sky-blue waistcoat and cravat. From time to time he cast her a
fond glance, just in case anyone was watching. She returned a blinding smile
of her own, her eyes apparently narrowed against the strong sunlight.
    But it was a busy market day in addition to the tourists, and
the village green was a field away, so no one noticed the dandy flick open his
parasol and present it to the lady with a flourish; nor did they see the two
slip behind the marble mausoleum holding the earthly remains of the defunct
family Wallingford.
    Gallantly, Edmund dusted off a stone bench to seat his lady,
but the lady preferred to stand.
    Remembering their pleasurable proximity of the previous
evening, Edmund grinned. Before yesterday, he’d never realized just how partial
he was to redheads with big blue eyes and freckles liberally spattered across
her cheeks. Not as classically beautiful as the sister, but nevertheless,
there was something about the Lady Katherine which made a man look at her
twice.
    “Has anyone ever told you have the most beautiful eyes that
ever looked upon the world?”
    “Yes.”
    Edmund threw back his head and laughed. “I do like you, Lady
Katherine, much more than I ever expected I could. You can have no idea how
devastated I’ll be to watch you hanged, drawn, and quartered for high treason.”
Though the tone was jocular, the seriousness of his expression gave lie to his
lightness.
    The lady’s reaction was not at all what he’d expected.
Instead of hysterical tears and pleadings for mercy, her lips curved in an
engaging grin. Still smiling, eyebrows raised in hauteur, she gently twirled
the parasol, watching the play of sunlight through its lacy swirls. “On what
grounds, sir?”
    "The making and passing of false coin, madam.”
    “What?!”
    Ah, this is more like it! he thought, as Lady Katherine, white-faced, sat down so abruptly she almost
missed the bench. However, Edmund’s glee was short-lived.
    “False coin?” The lady frowned up at him. “Oh, no. How
ridiculous.”
    Resting his elaborately tasseled boot on the bench, Edmund
crossed his arms on his knee and leaned forward.
    “I have in my possession,” he replied softly, scanning the
horizon for possible intruders, “A certain number of coins you used to purchase
a length of ribbon yesterday afternoon