Princess Charming Read Online Free Page A

hills above Nottingham. The wizened servant reached out, and Lucy took his hand gratefully. Soft understanding shone from hazel eyes that had seen too much of the world’s cruelty. “We must leave, then, Lady Lucy. We have put you in danger long enough, asking you to carry our messages and papers.”
    Mr. Selkirk’s words were sensible, Lucy knew, but the thought of losing her connection to the reformers made her ache. Her father had believed that England must change if revolution were to be avoided, and that only by giving all men the vote would the country he loved remain the country that he loved. Now, his cause was all that remained of him. Yet the late duke would have been the first to say that her involvement must be sacrificed for the greater good. Lucy reached into her pocket and pulled out a tightly folded piece of parchment.
    “Sidmouth’s men will not be thwarted easily, so I will not attempt the Blue Barrel tonight. Here is the list of contacts in the midlands.” Lucy wanted to scream at the injustice, for at long last she had earned the confidence of the reform leaders and had been invited to attend a meeting of the inner circle. “Plans are to be made tonight for the suffrage rally at Spitalfields, and for Nottingham as well. The names of key reformers in each of these shires will be needed.”
    Mr. Selkirk squeezed her hand. “You have more than done your duty, my lady. ‘Tis only this list that keeps us safe from Sidmouth’s infiltrators. Your father would be proud of you.”
    Mr. Selkirk’s words pierced her heart. Unbidden, images of the library at Charming Hall rose in her mind, the Axminster carpet spattered in blood and her father lying twisted behind the massive teakwood desk. Swamped by the memories, she couldn’t respond, could only press down the dangerous thoughts that lurked at the edges of her consciousness. Rumors had flown after the duke’s death, rumors of suicide and scandal, but her stepmother had quickly squelched them. His Grace had only been cleaning his pistols. Tragic, really, for he was a man in his prime. Lucy’s knees shook so much she pressed them together, afraid that Mr. Selkirk and Tom would see her trembling. She had seen the gun in her father’s hand. She had seen the blood, and she had hotly denied the rumors whenever they reached her ears. If only she could make a convincing denial of them to herself.
    “Tom and I will find another bolt-hole,” Mr. Selkirk said, attempting to reassure her. “I only hope they have not discovered your identity. Perhaps we should remain, for your father, God rest his soul, would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”
    Lucy forced herself to breathe, to appear normal. “My father, sir, would applaud my activities.” She squeezed Mr. Selkirk’s hand. “As he would your protection of me these last years.”
    Lucy envied Mr. Selkirk his ability to adapt to the harsh realities of life. Her father had always told her she was destined to tilt at windmills, that no less could be expected of the daughter of Lord Charming. The remembrance brought a tightness to her chest. If that was her fate, she could have used a generous measure of Mr. Selkirk’s patience, for the dream of suffrage seemed a distant reality indeed.
    Lucy smiled to reassure her friends. “I may need to skulk in the kitchen for a fortnight or so, but I shall be safe enough.” She rarely lied, but she did so now without a single pang of conscience. She would not rely upon the Selkirks to see to her well-being, any more than she would depend upon her dark-eyed gardener.
    Mr. Selkirk’s eyes searched her face, and Lucy held up well under the scrutiny. Tom disappeared into the dark corner of the room and returned with a small haversack.
    “Don’t fash yourself, Lady Lucy,” Tom consoled her. “We’ll find quarters elsewhere.”
    Lucy tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. Her life was a lonely one at best, caught between her role as Lady Lucy and