The Highwayman's Mistress Read Online Free Page A

wholly attributed to the presence of a meddling young Englishwoman, as Anna
Marie flicked her fingers in gesture of contempt and dismissal.
      Anna Marie’s tone was sharpened for effect,
“I may achieve some sense of servant dress, but just remember I will not be
your servant.”
      “Diamonta does not expect to you to be her
servant,” said Angelica, discarding heeled silk slippers with careless abandon,
the jewelled pins already threaded through lace of neck frill. “We must hurry,
and make ourselves unrecognisable as ladies of the court.” Skirt raised with
one hand, she rushed toward Anna Marie and grabbed her hand in passing. “Come,
we must hurry.”
      Left in the room together, Francois smiled,
that oh so familiar smile that had caused her heart to flutter before when
their eyes had met in passing, and no less now. “I owe you and your gentleman
friend an apology.”
      “Friend . . . Richard is merely a friend,”
spilled forth too readily, almost to point of rudeness.”
      Francois came toward her, a glint in his
eyes tending mischief. “That is what I thought, mere friend , for what
man in his right mind sits opposite to a beautiful woman when a far better
arrangement could be entertained?”
      She sensed a flush to her cheeks. This was
Francois the teasing Francois who’d haunted her dreams ever since her first
sighting of him. Oh Lord. On that first dramatic occasion his flamboyant manner
had overwhelmed and charmed her, for she had known little about him. But, in
the weeks that followed she had learned a lot from his sister. Angelica in all
honesty had claimed him a man of some reputation, and ladies of the court keen
to be seen on his arm. And, in response to such disappointing revelations she
had set out to harden her heart and avoid his attentions, though with great
difficulty for he had seemed intent on attracting hers, their eyes meeting too
often despite a woman always on his arm.
      “Is he blind to your beauty?”
      Francois had bridged the gap between them,
the smell of horse and leather strong upon his person yet overridden with
powerful essence of honey sweet sandalwood and citrus. She could almost taste
the zest of bitter lemon on her tongue.
      He caught up her gloved right hand, and drew
it to his lips. “J’aimerais te connaître mieux.”
      His words were those of a skilled romancer,
and no matter he wanted to get to know her better she could not entertain such
thoughts. Not after her mother’s harsh response at mere mention of his name. To
her relief Richard came striding in to the lodge, and need for reply excused by
Francois speedy action of holding aloft a gold fob watch and silver snuffbox.
      “I apologise most humble for theft of your
belongings.”
      Richard looked aghast, then realisation of
events of their past and present predicament of waiting for Angelica and Anna
Marie brought a tentative smile to his face. “Well I’ll be damned. Why didn’t
you just plead our help instead of resorting to dramatic highwayman act?”
      “I did not know if your cocheman was friend
or foe, and my success in securing your help lay with Diamonta. I hoped and
prayed she would recognise my voice and my overt attentions, and I thank God
she did.”
      “Are the young ladies near ready to leave?”
quizzed Richard. “I fear there are soldiers or militiamen coming this way. From
the stable courtyard we spied lights in the distance, and they did appear to be
coming through the forest not on the highway.”
      Francois turned and hurried from the hall.
She could hear him shouting for Angelica and Anna Marie to hurry up, and
Richard’s expression took on a rather haunted appearance in the dim
candlelight. He was clearly agitated, nervous perhaps, and sense of fear
gripped her.
      “How close were the lights?”
      “Close enough for Pierre to make haste in
turning the coche and he’s doused the lights. He’s edgy to say the least, and I
fear if the ladies are