Read How a Lady Weds a Rogue for Free Online Page A

had bequeathed him, one of which in a thoroughly unprecedented moment of weakness he had broken the night before, and for which he would have to make amends today. Miss Lucas did not strike him as the missish short, but she was a lady, a young one at that; she might be skittish. Curiously, he could not imagine her offended. But wary now—yes.
    He pressed a hand to his brow. “What is the time?”
    “Near eight o’clock, sir.”
    Wyn’s stomach tightened over the perpetual pain. Eight o’clock was far too early to feel this unsettling instability in his limbs, especially given that he’d finished a bottle of brandy only nine hours earlier.
    “Is something amiss with my horses?”
    “I thought you’d be wantin’ to know, sir, the constable from over Winsford’s been around this mornin’.”
    “Winsford?” His hedonistic host’s country. This was not good.
    “Yessir.” The man nodded rapidly, his hat brim bobbing up and down. “He’s been askin’ after that bay filly of yours.”
    Exceedingly not good . “Has he?”
    “He wanted to go right in that stall with her and take a look at her. But I said as the black would take a hunk out of his behind if he tried.”
    Despite circumstances, Wyn grinned. “He won’t, you know. Galahad is as placid as a plow horse.”
    The fellow returned the grin. “I figured since the Lord gave me a tongue to say what I see fit, I use it as I might.”
    “And what do you expect to gain from this particular use of it? I don’t suppose the constable is waiting at the bottom of the front stair and you will now be glad to show me the back stair for a price?”
    The man’s back went poker straight. “Now, see here, sir. I wasn’t thinkin’ to hold out my palm. I only thought as if you was goin’ after the lady quick like so you can catch her, you’d better not find trouble with any nosey old constable from clean over five parishes. Why, after the way she took up that little spaniel that got its paw near chewed off at the smithy’s and limpin’ along like it does and she wouldn’t hear no from the coachman about takin’ it aboard, sayin’ all the time that she’d care for it till it got well, why I figure she’s the sort that needs a little carin’ for herself.” A flush spread across his cheeks and he pulled his cap lower. “I’ve a girl like that, likes to take care of everybody else and ain’t got no one takin’ care of her. ’Cept me now, sir, you see.”
    “I do.” God, no . Damn foolishly nearsighted of him to underestimate her tenacity. Slipping, indeed. “Tell me quickly, in which coach did the lady depart and where is the constable now?”
    T he constable was in conference with the local law, consulting on the tricky matter of retrieving a horse stolen thirty miles away by a gentleman of means. Especially grateful on this occasion that Galahad’s indisputable quality gave him the appearance of being such a gentleman, and thus recommending caution to the law, Wyn dressed swiftly.
    In the stable he pressed a guinea into the groom’s palm.
    The man’s eyes went round. “No, sir! I didn’t do it on account o—”
    “Take it,” he said sharply. “Buy something for your girl who cares for everyone else more than herself.”
    He set a quick pace, considerably quicker than the Shrewsbury Coach would on the quagmired road.
    The dog appeared first. Limping along the center of the road toward them, it waved its tail in uncertain greeting. Then it barked once, a high yap of pleasure. On three or so legs it leaped around, its black eyes the only discernable color in its matted coat, then turned about and raced back the way it had come.
    Wyn urged his mount forward.
    Veiled in misty rain, Miss Lucas stood at the side of the road beside a traveling trunk topped with a lady’s bandbox.
    “Do not expect me to be thrilled that you of all people have happened along,” she said before he even pulled to a halt, the dog cavorting between them with little