Read His Wicked Wish for Free Online

it take for me to save enough money to open my shop? Another ten years? Twenty?” Maddy added a touch of gray soot to her eyebrows. “Besides, I need a protector, as well you know.”
    Hands planted on her sturdy hips, Gertie shook her head. “Tell Lord Dunham ye’re his cousin, then. Mayhap he’ll quit pesterin’ ye.”
    â€œNo. It wouldn’t matter to him. You didn’t see the look in his eyes last night.” Maddy shuddered at the memory of him forcing his kiss on her. Next time, she might not be so successful in fending off his attack.
    She had another reason for keeping their kinship a secret. If he knew, Lord Dunham would tell his grandfather— their grandfather—and that would ruin her opportunity to catch the Duke of Houghton by surprise. Once this auction was settled, she would have the leisure to formulate a scheme in which to confront the duke before all society …
    But Gertie needn’t know all that.
    Maddy arose from the stool and went to the woman, patting her big chapped hand. “Everything will go well tonight, you’ll see. I’ll have a fine town house in which to live. It would be a tremendous help if you’d accompany me as my personal servant.” Maddy paused, searching those familiar weathered features. “Unless, of course, you’d rather stay on here with the troupe.”
    â€œBosh, I wouldn’t leave ye, not ever! I promised yer mam on her deathbed.”
    Gratified, Maddy hugged the robust woman. “Thank you, dearest. You can’t imagine how much that means to me.”
    Gertie harrumphed again, her brown eyes tender with concern. “Ye’ve made yer bed an’ ye’ll lie in it, then. Let’s hope ye don’t come to regret it!”
    *   *   *
    A short while later, leaning heavily on a walking stick, Maddy shuffled out of the wings and onto the stage. Only a few gas lamps had been lit along the edge of the stage. With the cast and crew taking a night off, she had been allowed to use the premises this one last time.
    Already a score of gentlemen occupied seats on the benches in the pit of the shadowed theater. They looked up as Maddy appeared, then lost interest at once. To them, she was merely a creaky old maidservant to be ignored.
    So far, so good.
    Pausing as if to catch her breath, she used the opportunity to scan the crop of contenders. Several men chatted among themselves, but most were busy eyeing each other like rival cocks in a fighting pen.
    As well they should be. Only one of them would become her lover.
    Her insides clenched with anxiety. Would she make the right choice? Who among them would submit the most lucrative offer? Who would be most suited to her? Who would be eliminated?
    The first name already had been crossed off her list. Lord Dunham sat in the first row, his marine-blue coat a perfect foil for his flaxen hair and narrow aristocratic features. A diamond stickpin winked in his lapel and his foot tapped impatiently. Her cousin could offer her the crown jewels, and she still wouldn’t have him.
    Nearby, ginger-haired Lord Netherfield turned a folded paper over and over in his hand, brushing it almost lovingly. Behind him sat Mr. Stanford, the boyish heir to a baronet, cradling an enormous bouquet in his lap. A short distance away, the scholarly Marquess of Herrington had his nose in a book, though he slid wary glances at his fellow competitors from time to time.
    Only one arrival remained standing in the gloom at the back of the theater. He was leaning against a pillar in a casual pose of attention. With the gaslights shining in her eyes, Maddy couldn’t identify him. But she had the impression of a tall, well-built man.
    Was he Viscount Rowley?
    Lady Milford’s godson was the only candidate who was a stranger to Maddy, for she knew all the others present. But she couldn’t be certain it was him because there were two gentlemen on her