A Lady Undone Read Online Free Page B

Grace? What sort of man did you expect?”
    She put her brandy down upon the table and said honestly, “One that would not listen to me, who had all the answers, who gave not a jot for a woman’s wishes.”
    He nodded slowly. “I see. Well, I do have many answers, but not all of them. I will always listen to you. I care deeply about a woman’s wishes, they are as valid as my own and . . .”
    She held his gaze, suddenly on edge, holding her breath. “And?”
    “I am nothing like your deceased husband.”
    With those words, she wondered exactly how much he knew. It was galling, seeing the sympathy upon his face. He pitied her. She knew he did. “How do you know . . . what was he like?” she demanded.
    “He bullied women, he was a weakling, and he got his power from hurting those he could control. He hurt you. He controlled you. If you allow me to help you, I will do none of those things.”
    She lifted her chin, her heart aching with the abrupt pain of memory and shame. She’d never felt such shame before. How could he see so deeply inside her? Did he also see that her husband had beat her, forced laudanum down her throat, and slowly stolen her will away until she’d almost been nothing more than a shadow?
    Wyndham didn’t look away. He didn’t smile or reach out. He simply sat, allowing her to take in his words and to reply as she may.
    It was so tempting to tell him to get out. She had no desire for anyone to know the kind of pain and humiliation she had suffered. He thought he knew her. Perhaps he almost did. He thought she was a victim. A girl who had been swept up in marriage to an old man who had abused her.
    He was right to a point.
    A slow smile lifted her lips. “We won’t speak of this again, but you have convinced me that you will help
me
. Not the Duke of Fairleigh, not my uncle, or even your seeming sense of nobility toward a woman in distress. I thank you for it.”
    “Your Grace, it is an honor.”
    She gave a small bow of her head and hid the dangerous thoughts dancing through her head from his view. Would he still feel so honored if he knew the truth?
    What man could?

Chapter 4
    Whitechapel was a place out of hell. If one ever doubted that there was evil in this world, all they needed was to take a trip down the lanes of this part of town. Wyndham’s boots trudged over the muddy cobbles, wet with piss, ale, and God only knew what else.
    The boy Billy stood in the doorway of the Merman’s Tail huddled against the paneling, his bare feet blackened as he scuffed them back and forth to keep warm.
    “I thought I gave you a few shillings to buy some decent shoes, lad.” Wyndham fought a sigh. The street urchins made the best informants, but it wore his heart ragged to see their constant pain.
    Billy shrugged. “Ma needed the money. Me and the other babies aren’t going to the workhouse, ya know.”
    “I know,” Wyndham said firmly. It was so tempting to speak softly, but Billy wouldn’t respond well to such a thing. Creatures who had to claw their way daily to survival hated sympathy with a singular passion.
    He wished he’d recalled that when speaking with the Duchess of Duncliffe. Though she mightn’t be a street urchin, he’d seen the anger flash in her eyes when he’d made it clear he understood what her marriage had been like.
    It had been a foolish thing, but he’d wanted her to see how much he admired a woman who could rise above such a tyrannical husband.
    He ran his hand over his coat, allowing a slight chink to pass the muffling folds of wool. Just loud enough for Billy to hear. “That’s for you, a few of the other lads, and your family if you can aid me with information. Are you interested?”
    “Don’t be daft, gov. Course I am. Beats standing in this corner waiting for someone to pass me a few pennies to buy gin.”
    “I’ve told you to stop drinking gin.”
    Billy gave him a broad brown toothy grin. “You told me to buy shoes and all too.”
    “So I