Carola Dunn Read Online Free

without the family tree. What is she doing here?”
    “Acting as companion to Lady Parr; the thirteenth, I believe. She’s lasted longer than the rest. A meek, nervous creature.”
    “Oh, a lady’s companion.” John’s tone dismissed the occupation as beneath his notice, but he went on to ask, “Does the old dragon starve her? She’s thin as a rail.”
    “Starve her? In my house? I trust you are joking! Rebecca has a delicate appetite, I daresay. What exactly happened this morning?”
    “She fell into one of your devilish watercourses and I fished her out. There was a boy, too. I wonder what’s become of Bev?”
    “Mr. Bevan arrived a half hour since, while you were in your bath. He, too, was in need of a borrowed coat.”
    John jumped up and headed for the door. “Bev’s less likely to split your seams than I am,” he said over his shoulder, “and our traps should arrive at any minute. The carriage set out from Stamford at the same time we did.”
    “Where are you going? You cannot wander about the house in my dressing gown in broad daylight!”
    “Tell me which chamber is Bev’s and I shan’t have to wander about. Or I could leave the dressing gown behind,” offered John with a grin, his hand on the knob.
    With a resigned sigh Tom went to fetch Mr. Bevan and moments later the three gentlemen were once more seated cosily about the fire.
    “The lad was right as rain by the time I got him home,” Bev reported. “One of your tenants’ brats, Danville, and more like to get a hiding than sympathy by the look on his father’s face.”
    “Did he tell you how the accident came about?” Tom asked.
    “He swore up and down the young lady jumped in to save him , and that she could have climbed out but she wouldn’t abandon him. Regular heroine, I collect.”
    “That doesn’t sound like Rebecca.” Tom shook his head. “She’s a spiritless little thing, couldn’t say boo to a goose.”
    John agreed. “She struck me as the timid sort. Delicate. I’ll wager you it’s all a hum.”
    “Regular heroine,” his friend persisted. “You’re on for ten guineas. The boy would have been washed away if she hadn’t held him up. How is she? Looked to be in queer stirrups when you fished her out.”
    “Yes, I’d have sworn she was half dead, yet she managed to walk above-stairs after I carried her in. Insisted on it, in fact. Come to think of it, that showed some pluck.”
    “Told you so,” Bev said triumphantly.
    “How is she?” John turned to Tom.
    “I’ll go and ask Muriel. I’ve business to see to, can’t sit about chatting all day. We’ll talk later.” With a dark glance at his brother, the viscount heaved himself out of his chair and departed.
    “Not in the way, am I?” Bev lounged back with his boots on the gleaming brass fender, reaching for the glass of brandy on the table at his elbow.
    “On the contrary. Your presence has postponed a painful explanation of my presence.”
    “Haven’t told him about the duel yet, eh?”
    “Of all the ill-considered, muttonheaded starts,” John said gloomily, “that was the stupidest.”
    “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Tell me about the young lady you pulled out of the river. I gather she is staying here?”
    “Tom’s mother-in-law’s companion, Miss Rebecca Nuthall.”
    “Not an heiress then. Pity.”
    “Don’t tell me you’re looking for an heiress! Under the hatches again?”
    “Not at all! Well, I admit it’s low tide with me till quarter day but that’s not far off and I’m not about to let it drive me into parson’s mousetrap. Never hurts to have an unknown heiress up one’s sleeve though. Pretty, is she?” Bev asked.
    “Don’t be a clunch. If there’s a woman on this earth who looks pretty when she’s frozen and half-drowned, I’d like to meet her. Besides, pretty females have no need to become lady’s companions.”
    “True.” Mr. Bevan’s sigh was philosophical. “And from what your brother said she’s