Read Leslie Lafoy for Free Online Page B

offset it, though.”
    “He married?”
    “I have absolutely no idea. He hasn’t mentioned a wife and I haven’t thought to ask.”
    “Maybe he’s thinkin’ of marryin’ you.”
    Caroline rolled her eyes and then turned back to the scene in the side yard, saying, “I very seriously doubt that.”
    “He likes lookin’ at you. Or ain’t you caught him doin’ it?”
    He liked looking at her? Ha! He made a point of not doing so. And if Simone thought otherwise, the child needed eyeglasses. “He’s a duke, Simone,” she pointed out, addressing the larger issue. “If he isn’t married already, then he can have his pick of all the ladies in the land. There is no reason whatsoever for him to choose a bastard modiste over a proper lady with a substantial dowry and titles of her own.”
    Simone laughed—a deep, throaty, completely unaffected sound that really should have come out of someone considerably older than she was. It suggested a wisdom about men and relationships that Caroline knew she didn’t possess herself. Not in sufficient depth to be of real value, anyway. That Simone seemed to be so sure of what she saw, what she knew . . . It was, to say the least, disconcerting.
    Yes, Drayton Mackenzie, Duke of Ryland, was a handsome man. Terribly handsome, actually. And yes, he could be very irritating when he put his mind to it. But when he didn’t—like now, as he squatted to speak to Fiona on her level . . . Sliding into his bed wouldn’t be the most horrible thing that could ever happen to a woman.
    Caroline closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. No, Simone came from a world in which relationships between men and women were nothing more than fleeting physical transactions, where they weren’t complicated by titles and dowries and a thousand years of social rules and expectations. That simple world wasn’t the one she and her sister found themselves in now. Not the public one, anyway; the one that mattered as far as they were concerned.
    Simone had so very much to learn. They both did. Keeping her head squarely on her shoulders and the realities firmly in sight would make that task ever so much easier to do. And the most fundamental reality of all was that Drayton Mackenzie was her guardian and that was all he was ever going to be.
     
    “ HELLO, FIONA ,” HE SAID SOFTLY, ACUTELY AWARE OF how quickly the child’s chest was rising and falling. “I’mDrayton. Your father sent me to find you, to bring you to my house to live.”
    She didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.
    “Your sisters are in that carriage over there. They’ll be coming to my house with you.”
    “Like we said before, you might as well be talking to a rock, your lordship,” Fiona’s uncle said. “You can save the breath.”
    Drayton slowly rose to his full height and reached into his coat pocket. “I appreciate that you were willing to bring her to me here,” he said, removing the leather bag of coins and adding, “Please allow me to pay you something not only for your time and trouble today, but for the child’s keep over the years.”
    “That’s real nice of you, but we can’t accept—”
    His wife countered the assertion by snatching the bag from Drayton’s hand and saying, “Money makes it legal, Henry. She’s his now, proper and forever. Give him the lead and let’s be on our way while we still have some light.” She turned away and barked at the boys, “Get in the cart! Now!”
    With a shrug, Henry held out the end of the frayed rope. Drayton considered the little girl on the other end of it and all that her aunt and uncle had told him about her. He couldn’t be sure how much was truth and how much was the product of their obvious resentment and frustration, but he was absolutely certain that he didn’t want to take that rope and continue her humiliation.
    “I’m sure you have other uses for the tether,” he said. He held out his hand to Fiona, saying, “Shall we go meet your sisters? And then