The Wild One Read Online Free

"Pray, don't make him talk
any more than he has to. Now, if you must know what happened...."
She quickly told them about the highwaymen, the other passengers
adding pieces to the story.
    One of the young scapegraces pulled a flask
of spirits from his coat, lifted his stricken friend's head, and
held the flask to his mouth. "You mean Gareth took a bullet meant
for one of the little ones?"
    "He did indeed. He saved all of our
lives."
    "Gareth?!"
    "Don't look so surprised, Cokeham," the
tallest of the lot drawled, surveying the scene with a lordly gaze
and pulling out a snuff box. He took two pinches, then snapped the
lid shut with a casual flick of his fingers. "Hasn't he always been
the one to walk out of cockfights, rescue puppies, shun the use of
spurs? Don't just stand there gawking at him. Go get help. Now! "
    "Oh, for God's sake, Perry," their fallen
friend murmured, obviously embarrassed. He tried to move, and
through his teeth, sucked in his breath on a gasp of pain. "Now,
help me up, would you? Somebody?"
    He tried to sit up, but Juliet put a hand on
his chest. "You're staying right there, Mr. Gareth whoever-you-are,
until help arrives."
    "Ooooh! Listen to the lady, Gareth! Plagued
with petticoats you are, and she isn't even your wife!"
    Juliet, impatient and growing angry,
directed a glare toward the one who had spoken. "I assume you boys are his friends?"
    He snickered. "We're the Den of
Debauchery."
    Juliet looked at Perry, tall, lounging and
elegant — and the only one of the lot who seemed sober. "And you, I
assume, are its … leader?"
    "No, ma'am." He sketched her a bow, then
indicated his friend beneath her restraining hand. "Gareth is."
    "Well, then. Instead of standing around
making him miserable while he bleeds to death in the rain, why
don't you help us get him into the coach? Now that you're here and
must know where a doctor can be found, you can bring us
straight to help yourselves."
    Perry's eyes widened, and his lazy insolence
vanished. He straightened up, looking with new respect at the
slight young woman with the twangy, unfamiliar accent who knelt
beside his friend. And then he gave a slow smile of acknowledgment
and touched his hat to her. "The lady is correct," he said, turning
to his companions. "Hugh, you ride for the doctor and have him meet
us at the castle. Cokeham, you stay here with these people and keep
them safe until we can send someone back for them. I will drive the
coach." His voice was grim. "We're taking Gareth to the duke."
    "Now see here," the elderly man said
huffily, his face angry as he seized Perry's silk sleeve, "he
doesn't need a duke, he needs a damned doctor!"
    But Perry merely smiled and arched a brow.
"What, don't you know who your noble rescuer is, then?"
    Once again, the injured man tried to sit up.
"Perry — "
    But Perry's eyes sparkled with private
amusement. He stretched out his arm, sweeping it down and forward
with a dramatic eloquence that caused his friend's eyes to flash
with impatience and anger. "May I present Lord Gareth de Montforte
… leader of the notorious Den of Debauchery, third son of the
fourth Duke of Blackheath, and black-sheep brother of Lucien, the
preseent and fifth duke." He straightened up. "Now, do have a care. I , for one, have no wish to be held accountable to His Grace
should anything happen to him."
    Someone let out an exclamation of
disbelief.
    Lord Gareth de Montforte cursed beneath his
breath.
    And Juliet Paige went as white as the chalk
mud in which she stood.
    Their gallant savior wasn't just the duke's brother.
    He was Charles's brother, as well — and the
uncle of her baby daughter.
     
     

Chapter 3
    As the passengers argued with Lord Gareth's
friends about where to bring him, Juliet got to her feet and walked
a short distance away, trying to regain her composure and hide the
shock that must've been written all over her face.
    She ran her palms down her cheeks. Dear
God. This man is Charles's brother. He looks so much like him