Intriguing Lady Read Online Free Page B

foolhardy. And surely only a foolhardy man would have persisted in conducting an illicit liaison with the comte’s sister.
    Her reverie was rudely interrupted by the sounds of someone banging loudly on the outer door of the inn. The noise echoed down the corridor, bringing her to her feet in haste. It was a noise only a thoughtless person would make so early in the day, a person who cared not at all for anyone else’s desire to sleep. She was about to open the parlor door and find out the cause of the commotion, when Marie appeared.
    “Oh! Mademoiselle, please stay here,” she whispered in great agitation. “It’s the comte. Henri will see what he wants.”
    “Indeed? I think I want to see this comte for myself,” Roberta responded with spirit. “Anyone who displays such bad manners deserves to be rebuked.”
    “Non—non—Please don’t go,” Marie said as she tried unsuccessfully to block the doorway. “Sir Nicholas would not like it, I’m sure.”
    “Nonsense, Marie. You stay here if you wish, but I’m not going to. This is the first piece of excitement that has come my way in the longest time, and I refuse to turn my back on it.”
    She swept past Marie and reached the corridor just as Henri withdrew the last bolt from the front door. She stood back in the shadows as he swung the heavy oak door open, and she was able to get a clear look at the comte.
    He was very tall and distinguished. His thick black hair, swept backward in a style similar to Sir Nicholas’s, was caught at his nape by a black ribbon. His brows, black and menacing, were pulled together in a frown, and in his left hand a riding crop was raised as if he were readying himself to pound the door again. His dress was all black except for the white relief of his stock, which fell in careful folds over his riding jacket. Even the three rings on his fingers were black. Roberta shuddered. He was not a man she would care to cross.
    He glowered down at Henri and appeared to consider him for the longest time, in much the same way a bird would consider a worm. Henri stood his ground, and Roberta was impressed by this show of defiance.
    “Bonjour, Monsieur le Comte,” Henri said pleasantly. “Do we have the pleasure of serving you breakfast this morning?”
    “Mon dieu!” the comte said, his teeth clenched. “You know why I’m here. Do not make the mistake of thinking me a fool. I know you are harboring the Englishman. The one my men injured last night as he fled my sister’s boudoir. Take me to him immediately.”
    Henri shrugged his shoulders, and Roberta imagined the bewildered look he must be presenting. “I’m afraid I don’t understand you, Monsieur le Comte. We have no one of that description staying here. You must be mistaken.”
    The comte brought his riding crop down savagely on the doorpost. “I will not bear with your lies, you idiot. Stand back and let me search this place myself.” He pushed past Henri and strode toward the stairs.
    Roberta glimpsed the dismay on Henri’s face as he swung around and tried to stop the comte. She quickly emerged from her hiding place.
    “Ah! There you are, Henri,” she said, ignoring the comte, who had his foot on the first stair. “My father would like you to help ready him for our journey. But”—she turned slowly and acknowledged the comte’s presence by inclining her head graciously in his direction—“if you are busy, I shall tell him to have patience.”
    She moved toward the comte, forcing him to retreat. He bowed low, and she dimpled her cheeks in an engaging smile.
    “Thank you,” she said. “You know how it is with old people. They do so hate to be kept waiting.”
    “Of course, mademoiselle,” the comte replied, his voice softening perceptibly. “I hope I didn’t disturb his rest just now, with my loud knocking. I didn’t know Henri had any other guests last night apart from my friend .”
    Roberta raised her finely arched brow at this remark and then laughed, a low,