Wagered to the Duke (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read Online Free Page A

The cur had truly abandoned his sister. She ventured outside to the inn yard, but still she didn’t see Mr. Fraser anywhere. A man as tall as he was would be hard to miss.
    She swept her gaze around the inn yard, studying the various carriages and carts and wagons and horses. Which one was his?
    Her turbulent mind raced. He wouldn’t be in one of the open wagons or carts, and he surely wouldn’t be traveling by stage. That left private carriages and post chaises, but Kate saw no sign of the latter.
    That meant he had to be traveling in that enormous, black barouche next to a high stone wall. A liveried coachman sat on the box, looking ready to wield his crop and set the horses in motion. No crest adorned the door, consistent with the duke’s desire to travel incognito.
    She approached the elegant equipage. The windows were covered with dark shades, as if to keep out the sun. Only the sun never shone in Yorkshire, or so it seemed to Kate.
    She rapped on the door.
    The coachman craned his neck to look down at her. “Who are you and what do you want?”
    Kate stepped back. “I’m looking for Mr. Fraser. Or even the Duke of Loring.”
    “Who are you?” The coachman sounded just like one of those insufferable servants who thought they were as good as their employers, if not better, and expected other servants, or even would-be governesses, to treat them as such.
    But his haughty dissembling was confirmation enough for Kate. She grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. “Mr. Fraser, please wait for me! Send your coachman for my—”
    She stopped short as she suddenly realized that wasn’t Mr. Fraser sitting on the squabs gaping back at her as if she were a large snake who’d just slithered into his carriage.
    Her carriage. Unless Mr. Fraser had the whimsy to change into a very clever disguise for some mysterious reason, the person glaring back at Kate was a woman clad in black.
    And then she realized the opposite door was also wide open, but the person standing across the width of the carriage from her was not Mr. Fraser, either, but a liveried footman.
    The woman produced a quizzing glass from somewhere in the folds of her black bombazine and held it up to study Kate. “Miss Hathaway, I presume?”
    Then she heard another voice from inside the carriage, across from the haughty woman. “That’s not my sister.”
    Kate leaned forward just a bit to get a better view into the gloomy depths of the barouche’s interior, and to her astonishment she saw Mr. Frederick Hathaway on the opposite seat. “You! How dare you do such a vile thing as you did! Wagering your own sister in a card game!”
    The mysterious dowager languidly dropped the quizzing glass and turned her head the other way to address the footman. “Seize her,” she commanded in bored tones.
    Kate threw the door shut as if that would deter the footman. Honestly, did she really think he would squeeze through the barouche and over his mistress’s knees to get to her? Of course he’d go around. The question was in which direction.
    She swiftly decided to go toward the front where the horses were. She figured she’d have better warning if the footman also chose that direction than if he jumped her from behind the conveyance.
    She was right. He wasn’t on the other side of the horses, or the barouche. As she rounded the front of the horses, she glimpsed him popping out from behind the carriage on her side but looking the other way.
    Kate darted to the back of the barouche, lurching to a halt as she saw him still standing where she’d last seen him. The rear of the barouche faced the inn, so perhaps he thought she’d fled back there.
    Then he spun around and saw her only a few feet away.
    She turned and ran back toward the horses, thinking he’d follow her, but instead, to her dismay, he took the same direction on the opposite side of the barouche, catching sight of her over the animals.
    She turned to run back then caught a smile on his face as he