A Notorious Love Read Online Free Page B

lovely throat.
    “Careful, m’lady, one of these days that tongue of yours will freeze solid and fall right off.” That gained him a frigid glance. Perhaps he shouldn’t tease her so, but God knew she provoked him to it. Smugglers, indeed. “Did this maid have any other reason for her suspicions?”
    “She said the men sold the innkeeper some French brandy.”
    That was a bit more telling, but it didn’t mean the fool had been a free trader. “Was she sure Morgan was one of them? P’raps he simply wanted drinking companions.”
    “Mr. Morgan did not strike me as the sort to require companionship. There was something heartless about him, despite his handsome looks and gentlemanly manner.”

    “Which of course means he’s a criminal.”
    “I did not say that! Although he roused my suspicions from the first, I didn’t think him a criminal until I heard of his companions.”
    “Who may not have been true companions at all.”
    “If you insist,” she said crisply. “In any case, after I left Aylesbury I continued to London, but I lost them in the city yesterday.”
    Christ, he supposed he should be grateful she hadn’t shown up here last night while he and Sall were drinking and prigging.
    “I have no idea where to look,” she went on. “So when I realized last night that I would not be able to find them, I thought of you.”
    “To track down Mr. Morgan and your sister.”
    “Yes. After all, you do have some experience with…well…”
    The truth hit him like a well-placed blow, shattering his humor. “With smugglers.”
    She ducked her head to hide her face beneath the wide brim of her bonnet, and a long-buried anger twisted up his insides. He should’ve realized that all that business about trusting him was rubbish.
    “You came to me because of my connection to free traders.” Sarcasm weighted his words. “That’s why you chose me, ain’t it?” For once, he didn’t watch his grammar. She thought him a villain, so he might as well play the part. “That’s why, ain’t it?”
    She wouldn’t look at him. “Not entirely. You’re the only person I know in London. Though I did think perhaps…since you…I mean—”
    “It’s bloody clear what you mean. You’ve decided that since I used to be a criminal, I ought to be able to find a criminal.”

    “No!” Her head shot up. “Not at all. I—”
    “I hate to disappoint you, Lady Helena, but there’s no gentlemen’s club for smugglers where we sit around cup-shot every night, jawing about old times.” He leaned forward to plant his fists on the table in front of her. “I don’t see those people anymore, so don’t look to me if it’s a criminal you need for tracking down this man.”
    “You misunderstand me,” she protested, her cheeks paling. “I didn’t mean to imply you were a criminal, for heaven’s sake. I know perfectly well how young you were when you spent time with smugglers. You were only a boy—you could hardly have done much of a criminal nature.”
    He straightened, momentarily struck speechless. She didn’t know? Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised—Griff wouldn’t have told her, and Rosalind probably didn’t know all that much herself.
    He kept his voice carefully neutral. “What exactly is it that you think I did when I…er…spent time with the smugglers?”
    “Why, I’m not sure.” Her gloved finger idly traced the words on the cover of the sketch pad. “I suppose you held the horses. Watched for excisemen. Anything a boy might do.”
    A boy of seventeen, large for his age and with a quick mind, could do a damned sight more than hold horses and watch for excisemen.
    “Anyone can tell you’re no criminal. And Griff would hardly allow a real smuggler to work for him.”
    He stifled a smile at her naiveté. Before Griff had met Rosalind, he would’ve hired the devil himself if it furthered Knighton Trading. “Tell me, m’lady—what would you call a real smuggler?”
    She waved her hand. “Oh, men