On A Wicked Dawn Read Online Free Page B

would be a marriage of convenience, that she wouldn’t make unwanted emotional demands, that she was prepared to let him go his own way as long as she could similarly go hers. All lies, of course, but she had to be hardheaded; this was Luc she was dealing with—without those lies, she could see no chance of getting his ring on her finger, and that had to be her first goal.
    A goal she’d almost realized. Outside her window, the world was stirring. Her heart light, buoyed by a feeling of rightness, of satisfaction and triumph, she closed her eyes. And tried to rein in her joy. Gaining Luc’s agreement to their wedding was not an end, but a beginning, the first active step in her long-range plan. Her plan to translate her most precious dream into reality.
    She was one step—one big step—closer to her ultimate goal.
    Five hours later, Luc opened his eyes, and remembered with startling clarity all that had happened in his front hall. Up to the point of that unwise bow; after that, he recalled very little. He frowned, struggling to pierce the fog shrouding those latter moments—out of the mists, he retained a definite impression of Amelia, warm, soft, and undeniably female, tucked against his side. He could remember the pressure of her hands on his chest . . .
    He realized he was naked under his sheets.
    His imagination reared, poised to run riot—a quiet tap distracted him. The door eased open. Cottsloe peeked in.
    Luc beckoned, waited only until Cottsloe closed the door to tersely inquire, “Who put me to bed?”
    â€œI did, my lord.” Cottsloe clasped his hands; his eyes were wary. “If you remember . . .”
    â€œI remember Amelia Cynster was here.”
    â€œIndeed, my lord.” Cottsloe looked relieved. “Miss Amelia helped get you upstairs, then she left. Do you wish for anything at this time?”
    His relief was greater than Cottsloe’s. “Just my washing water. I’ll be down to breakfast shortly. What time is it?”
    â€œTen o’clock, my lord.” Crossing to the window, Cottsloe drew back the curtains. “Miss Ffolliot has arrived and is breakfasting with Miss Emily and Miss Anne. Her ladyship has yet to come down.”
    â€œVery good.” Luc relaxed, smiled. “I’ve some good news, Cottsloe, which, needless to say, must go no further than you and Mrs. Higgs, if you would be so good as to pass the word to her.”
    Cottsloe’s face, until then set in typical butler imperturbabilty, eased. “Her ladyship did whisper that there’d been some encouraging developments.”
    â€œEncouraging indeed—the family’s afloat again. We’re no longer run aground, and even more than that—financially, we’re once again precisely where we should be, where we’ve pretended to be all these years.” Luc met Cottsloe’s steady brown eyes. “We’re no longer living a lie.”
    Cottsloe beamed. “Well done, my lord! I take it one of your investment ventures was successful?”
    â€œ Extravagantly successful. Even old Child was bowled over by how successful. That was the note I got yesterday evening. I couldn’t speak to you then, but I wanted to tell both you and Mrs. Higgs that I’ll make out drafts to you both for all your back wages this morning. Without your unfailing support, we’d never have weathered the last eight years.”
    Cottsloe blushed and looked conscious. “My lord, neither Mrs. Higgs nor I is in any hurry over the money—“
    â€œNo—you’ve been more than patient.” Luc smiled disarmingly. “It’ll give me great pleasure, Cottsloe, to at last be able to pay both of you as you deserve.”
    Phrased in that way, Cottsloe could do nothing but blush again and acquiesce to his wishes.
    â€œIf you would both come to the study at twelve, I’ll have the drafts waiting.”
    Cottsloe bowed.