Read An Excellent Wife for Free Online

broken anything.'
    'What about your head? That hit the pavement with an almighty crack.'

    'Oh, I've got a tough skull.' But she did not seem to James to be too steady on her feet, all the same.
    'Was she trying to snatch something out of your car?' a man in the crowd hissed next to him. 'I saw her grabbing at you through the window. Don't know what the City's coming to, street girls hanging about in broad daylight!
    You expect them up West, but not around here. You be careful, mister, I don't think she's hurt at all— just a bit of blackmail. I'll be a witness for you if the cops come. I saw it was an accident; don't you let her trap you.'
    James gave him such a ferocious sideways glance that the man backed off hurriedly, muttering. 'Oh, well, if you want to make a fool of yourself, don't let me stop you.'
    'You should be X-rayed to make sure there are no fractures,' James told Patience, who shook her head, grimacing.
    'I hate hospitals.'
    'Nevertheless it's only sensible...'
    'I won't go, okay? Look, if I feel any worse tomorrow I'll go along to Casualty. Please stop fussing. You're worse than my grandpa.'
    Being compared to her grandfather went down like a lead balloon with James. Tight-lipped, he said, 'Get in the car, please. I'll give you a lift home.'
    The crowd began to disperse, seeing that no further excitement was likely.
    Her hazel eyes glinted mischievously up at him. 'Remember, I might pick your pocket if you let me get close enough.'
    'Very droll, Miss Kirby. Please get into the car.'
    She obeyed this time, but was still looking up at him, which was why she stumbled over the edge of the kerb.

    Before she could hit her chin on the open car door James grabbed her, slid an arm around her waist, another behind her knees, and carried her to the car, very conscious of her glinting red hair brushing his jawline, her heart beating under that shabby old sweatshirt she wore, picking up a faint, flowery scent from her throat. If you missed the slight rise of those tiny breasts you'd think she could be a boy, she was so slightly built, so skinny of hip and leg, but it would be a mistake to forget her femininity. He had already been stung by it once or twice. Looking at her was one thing; having her in his arms made an entirely different and disturbing impression.
    She "looked like a child, but she got her own way with a woman's maddening deviance. He had been determined not to visit her home and here he was, committed to doing just that—and the really infuriating part was that he didn't even really mind.
    Not that he was really attracted to a skinny brat like this, of course! Good God, no! It was just that... He tried to explain his reactions to himself, to be rational and level-headed, but she had slid her arms round his neck and put her head on his shoulder and James was suddenly having some sort of problem thinking at all.
    Almost feverishly he deposited her in a hurry on the back seat of the car and climbed in beside her, trying not to make his agitation visible.
    What the hell was the matter with him? He was behaving like some sex-starved lunatic.
    Slamming the door, he watched Barny get back behind his driving wheel.
    Without looking at the girl, James asked curtly, 'What's the address?'
    'Muswell Hill, Cheney Road; the house is called The Cedars.'
    The address intrigued him; it sounded Victorian, gracious, and didn't fit this girl at all. He would be curious to see what her home looked like, what sort of family she came from. But he wouldn't go into the house; he was not letting her win every trick. He would drop her and drive away.

    'Make for Muswell Hill, Barney,' James said, leaning forward to open a small cabinet fixed to the back of the front seats. It held among other things first aid items; James selected a box of paper handkerchiefs, a bottle of still water and a couple of sticky plasters.
    'Turn your face to me, Miss Kirby.'
    'Patience,' she said, obeying.
    'That's a very old-fashioned name.'
    'My