Duchess 02 - Surprising Lord Jack Read Online Free

didn’t matter as much as sleeping habits. Some of the skinniest men made the worst bed partners, whirling like dervishes or snoring so loud they shook the rafters. He’d once ended up with a black eye after sharing a bed with a wizened little preacher.
    Oh damn. Mrs. Findley was looking at him hopefully again. What else was coming?
    “The boy seems far too young to be traveling by himself, milord. If you’re off to London anyway, perhaps you could watch out for him until he reaches his brother?”
    Wonderful. Not only would he have a bedmate who likely grunted and squirmed and would poke him all night in the back with sharp elbows and knees, but now he was to bear-lead the lad as well.
    “I’d be happy to do so, madam.” And he would, once he wasn’t so tired. He certainly didn’t want another green lad from the country wandering around London alone. He’d much rather take charge of him now than try to rescue him later. He scraped his fork over his plate to get the last bit of pie, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and stood. “Shall I go up now?”
    “I need more ale, Mr. Findley,” Bess said from the doorway.
    “I have a fresh tray for you, Bess. Madge, go ahead and take Lord Jack upstairs.”
    “No need.” Jack said. “I know my way.”
    “But milord—”
    “No, Mrs. Findley, I insist. You’re needed here.” Jack left before the woman could argue further.
    When he reached the room, he opened the door quietly and shielded his candle so he didn’t wake the boy. The lad was sleeping on his side, and the covers had slipped down to his waist. Good Lord, he was still wearing all his clothes. Well, not his coat, but his shirt and vest and breeches. Hopefully not his boots . . . ah no, there they were at the foot of the bed.
    Red hair curled around the boy’s face, and a sprinkling of freckles dusted his nose. He did look very young. The light was too weak to see for sure, but Jack would swear the boy’s cheeks were free of even peach fuzz.
    Frankly, he looked sadly effeminate. He hoped the lad was a good fighter, because pretty boys like him generally got beat up at school. Jack frowned. Or worse.
    He put his candle down and stripped off his cravat, shirt, shoes, and socks. He wasn’t about to sleep in his clothes. He paused with his hands on his drawers and looked at the boy again. On second thought, he’d leave these on.
    He sighed and blew out his candle. It looked like he definitely had a traveling companion. Unless the boy was much more imposing awake—which from what the Findleys had said seemed unlikely—he wouldn’t last five minutes in Town on his own.

Chapter 2

    Sometimes your body speaks a language you don’t yet understand.
    —Venus’s Love Notes

    Frances was dreaming. She was lying in the soft grass, listening to a stream burble past. Well, it was really more a torrent than a burble and too loud for a dream. And then it stopped abruptly and the ground shifted . . .
    No, it was the mattress that shifted. Oh God, now she remembered. She was at the Crowing Cock. The Findleys must have taken pity on some late traveler and let him share her room. The sound could only be that of a man using a chamber pot.
    She cracked open one eye. Sunlight leaked around the curtains. Good Lord, it was morning.
    Her heart slammed against her rib cage. She’d been completely exhausted, but she’d never slept like one dead before. Had the man guessed she was female? And if he had...
    Don’t panic. She took a quick mental inventory. Her clothes all seemed to be in their proper places; she didn’t feel any different than when she’d got into bed last night. Surely she would if he’d . . . done something.
    Men might be officious and overbearing and oafish, but most of them weren’t dangerous. The Findleys wouldn’t put a violent blackguard in their best bedchamber.
    She opened her other eye and turned slightly so she could see her companion.
    Zeus, he was naked!
    She squeezed her eyes shut immediately,