Read Perilous Risk for Free Online Page A
Authors: Natasha Blackthorne
present a pleasant expression and failed. She could feel the lines in her face, cracking, cracking. “What does Jo—Lord Ruel say?”
That impossibly lush, wine-red mouth curved upwards. Trembling lips and a catching in her breath. “He says that Saxby has made his own bed, that only a fool would have bedded down with a woman who had proved herself to be such a she-wolf.”
“That’s sounds like Lord Ruel.”
Anne Lloyd gave a little laugh. A stifled sound. “He is quite adamant.”
“There is a certain wisdom in what he says, my lady,” Rebecca ventured carefully.
“Yes, I suppose there is. But my cousin is a young man. Foolish? Perhaps. Naive and idealistic most definitely.”
The fondness in the young countess’s voice brought back that earlier certainty that she had been Saxby’s lover. Rebecca’s patience suddenly snapped. She was here to sell medicinal extracts, nothing more. “My lady, I do not think Maria Seymour intends to kill her husband.”
“You sound so certain,” Anne Lloyd said.
It was slightly disconcerting to talk to a person who was so pointedly avoiding eye contact. It was disconcerting to have lengthy conversations with this lady. Rebecca gave an internal sigh. “Maria Seymour came here just a few days ago and she implored me to have a look at Saxby and give my opinion as to what could possibly be done to increase his chances of recovery.”
“She did?” Lady Ruel said, incredulously.
“Yes.” Rebecca’s own voice held a note of incredulousness. She still couldn’t believe it herself.
“And did you go?” Lady Ruel’s words carried a certain breathless hope.
“No.” Uneasiness bristled down Rebecca’s spine. “I am no doctor. I just sell extracts.”
“Oh.” Another of those small, nervous smiles. “I disagree. In fact, I rather doubt my Jonny would have lived through his first two weeks without your expertise with medicines.”
“I sincerely doubt that, my lady, he was attended by the best physicians that London has to offer.”
“Yes, and that was likely part of the problem.” Anne drummed her fingers on the counter again.
Rebecca’s back began to ache in protest again. God, she just wanted to get off her feet for the day.
Lady Ruel looked up, and Rebecca found herself staring into deep, dark blue eyes. Huge and full of emotion. Pleading.
“Perhaps you could have a look at him? He is the last family I have left in England. And he is kind and good. His heart leads him into trouble sometimes. He acts before he thinks. But he is good.”
Much like her own Edwin.
Rebecca found herself overcome with sympathy. She hardened herself against the feeling. “No.”
She spoke firmly, coldly, as though she could push her compassion away through the strength of her gesture.
“No?” Anne Lloyd’s voice was soft. Sweet without being saccharine.
The girl’s appeal was well nigh irresistible. But Rebecca had enough self-protective sense left. “I am sorry, my lady, but I cannot.”
“If you will, I shall pay you well. Grandly. Extravagantly.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I am sorry. I cannot. I will not go anywhere near the new Duchess of Saxby. And in any case she would not allow me into her house.”
“Oh, but I think she would. Just to show everyone that she cares about the duke and wants the best for him.”
“I will not go near her.”
Rebecca’s palms were sweating now. She did fear Maria. The woman was pure evil.
“Well, if you won’t, you won’t.” Lady Ruel sounded sad. “I had feared you wouldn’t. But I simply had to ask. You seem so knowledgeable about medical matters and I certainly trust you more than I do most of these London physicians. I think they create more illness than they cure. I hope you understand, I have no wish to cause you to feel ill-at-ease.”
Anne Lloyd spoke as though she’d suddenly forgotten that Rebecca was a commoner and she was a powerful, exceedingly wealthy aristocrat. Her vulnerability was still
That impossibly lush, wine-red mouth curved upwards. Trembling lips and a catching in her breath. “He says that Saxby has made his own bed, that only a fool would have bedded down with a woman who had proved herself to be such a she-wolf.”
“That’s sounds like Lord Ruel.”
Anne Lloyd gave a little laugh. A stifled sound. “He is quite adamant.”
“There is a certain wisdom in what he says, my lady,” Rebecca ventured carefully.
“Yes, I suppose there is. But my cousin is a young man. Foolish? Perhaps. Naive and idealistic most definitely.”
The fondness in the young countess’s voice brought back that earlier certainty that she had been Saxby’s lover. Rebecca’s patience suddenly snapped. She was here to sell medicinal extracts, nothing more. “My lady, I do not think Maria Seymour intends to kill her husband.”
“You sound so certain,” Anne Lloyd said.
It was slightly disconcerting to talk to a person who was so pointedly avoiding eye contact. It was disconcerting to have lengthy conversations with this lady. Rebecca gave an internal sigh. “Maria Seymour came here just a few days ago and she implored me to have a look at Saxby and give my opinion as to what could possibly be done to increase his chances of recovery.”
“She did?” Lady Ruel said, incredulously.
“Yes.” Rebecca’s own voice held a note of incredulousness. She still couldn’t believe it herself.
“And did you go?” Lady Ruel’s words carried a certain breathless hope.
“No.” Uneasiness bristled down Rebecca’s spine. “I am no doctor. I just sell extracts.”
“Oh.” Another of those small, nervous smiles. “I disagree. In fact, I rather doubt my Jonny would have lived through his first two weeks without your expertise with medicines.”
“I sincerely doubt that, my lady, he was attended by the best physicians that London has to offer.”
“Yes, and that was likely part of the problem.” Anne drummed her fingers on the counter again.
Rebecca’s back began to ache in protest again. God, she just wanted to get off her feet for the day.
Lady Ruel looked up, and Rebecca found herself staring into deep, dark blue eyes. Huge and full of emotion. Pleading.
“Perhaps you could have a look at him? He is the last family I have left in England. And he is kind and good. His heart leads him into trouble sometimes. He acts before he thinks. But he is good.”
Much like her own Edwin.
Rebecca found herself overcome with sympathy. She hardened herself against the feeling. “No.”
She spoke firmly, coldly, as though she could push her compassion away through the strength of her gesture.
“No?” Anne Lloyd’s voice was soft. Sweet without being saccharine.
The girl’s appeal was well nigh irresistible. But Rebecca had enough self-protective sense left. “I am sorry, my lady, but I cannot.”
“If you will, I shall pay you well. Grandly. Extravagantly.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I am sorry. I cannot. I will not go anywhere near the new Duchess of Saxby. And in any case she would not allow me into her house.”
“Oh, but I think she would. Just to show everyone that she cares about the duke and wants the best for him.”
“I will not go near her.”
Rebecca’s palms were sweating now. She did fear Maria. The woman was pure evil.
“Well, if you won’t, you won’t.” Lady Ruel sounded sad. “I had feared you wouldn’t. But I simply had to ask. You seem so knowledgeable about medical matters and I certainly trust you more than I do most of these London physicians. I think they create more illness than they cure. I hope you understand, I have no wish to cause you to feel ill-at-ease.”
Anne Lloyd spoke as though she’d suddenly forgotten that Rebecca was a commoner and she was a powerful, exceedingly wealthy aristocrat. Her vulnerability was still