To Love a Wicked Lord Read Online Free Page A

lips, but only to swallow the soup—and her temper.

Chapter 2
    N ow,” Lord Montrose said, when their table had been cleared of dishes and the private dining room of servants, “tell me how I may assist you ladies.”
    â€œI thought my grandfather had done that,” Pippa said.
    â€œSo he did,” her grandmother said, looking puzzled.
    Lord Montrose smiled. “Indeed. You’re right, my lady. But I need a bit more information. I only know that your granddaughter has misplaced her fiancé.”
    â€œHe never said it quite that way,” Pippa’s grandmother protested, her objection laced with titters.
    Pippa scowled. “I know he didn’t, Grandmamma,” she said and glared at the gentleman. “Not really, my lord, not quite. Rather it seems he’s misplaced himself. He left our house almost sevenmonths ago, just before our wedding was to be, and hasn’t been seen or heard from since. Well, there was one letter from London, three weeks later, in which he said he regretted how long his business was taking him, and promising to be back soon. I’ve heard no more.”
    Before he could say anything, she raised a hand. “We’ve asked after him everywhere and heard nothing. He simply hasn’t returned.”
    Seeing a slight quirk on his lips, she added defiantly, “He showed no inclination by word or deed of wanting to sever our engagement. If he’d wanted to be free, he’d only to ask me and he knew it. The months passed, and I—we—began to worry about his having met with mischief.
    â€œWe asked locally, and then decided to go further. Grandfather has many knowledgeable connections here and abroad, you know,” she went on. “He tried to find out more, but couldn’t. An inquiry was sent to justices of the peace along the route from here to London and there’ve been no unidentified men found injured or dead. Even his horse, his favorite, a highly trained roan named Trueheart, hasn’t been spied—and he’d go nowhere without Noel’s command. When the trail went dry, grandfather suggested we leave and make inquiries of our own. He gave us your name, among others, of course. And here we are.”
    â€œIndeed, so we are,” Lord Montrose said thoughtfully. “So then, what can you tell me about him?” he asked Pippa. “I know little but his name: Noel Nicholson. What more can you tell me?”
    Pippa sat up straighter. He wasn’t mocking her now. It made answering him easier, and her attitude became less hostile.
    â€œWhat would you like to know?” she asked.
    â€œHis appearance, for a start,” he said. “Can you give me a mental image of how he looked when you last saw him? Better yet, have you a miniature of him? Many lovers give them as remembrances before they embark on long journeys.”
    â€œNo,” she said, shaking his head. “Because he wasn’t going on a long journey. He said he just had some business to clear before our wedding.” She closed her eyes, concentrating on an interior image. “He was—is, I mean—about your height, with black hair. His eyes were—are—brown, and his face is considered very handsome, with no scars or pitting.”
    â€œLucky lad!” his lordship said merrily. “He must look exactly like me!”
    She opened her eyes and stared at him dispassionately, although she wanted to jump up and stalk from the room. “Not a bit like you, my lord,” she finally said through gritted teeth.
    â€œThen,” he asked simply, “where is the difference? I can’t go about asking people if they’ve seen my twin, you know.”
    She glowered at him.
    He waved a hand. “Never mind. A horse’s colors can be changed, along with his name, no matter how obedient he is. A fellow can alter his appearance even more easily if he wishes. He can grow military whiskers if he has none,