A Dangerous Love Read Free

sacrificing my darling sister for. What has this heap of stones ever done except make us the Swanlea Spinsters? If I must be a spinster, I’d rather be one in town.”
    “You wouldn’t survive town,” Papa growled. “You remember what happened to Helena. Besides, your mother was much happier as a wife than an actress. Such a life is not for you, nor for Juliet, either. She deserves better.”
    “Yes, but a forced marriage isn’t ‘better,’ Papa. Especially when the man is, according to Mrs. Inchbald’s letters, a scoundrel and a villain. You know that he had connections to smugglers and even sold smuggled goods himself.”
    “Out of necessity, and a long time ago. He is perfectly respectable these days.”
    “Mrs. Inchbald also said—”
    “One moment, gel,” her father broke in. He motioned Juliet to his side and whispered to her. She nodded. Then he looked at Rosalind. “Give Juliet the house keys. I need her to fetch my restorative from the pantry.”
    It was a flimsy excuse for getting rid of Juliet, but Rosalind didn’t entirely mind. Handing her sister the ring of keys, Rosalind tapped her foot impatiently while the girl fled.
    Then Rosalind squared off against her father, barely noticing the click of the door. “What’s more,” she continued, “Mrs. Inchbald says that Mr. Knighton is a…was born on the wrong side of the blanket. Doesn’t that worry you?”
    He broke into an alarming fit of coughing. Hurrying to his side, she thumped the middle of his back as Juliet always did. Apparently Juliet did it less vigorously, however, for he shoved her away, and growled, “Stop that, gel! I am not a bloody rug you beat the dust out of!”
    Muttering to herself, she backed away. Ungrateful man! And they wondered where she learned to curse! Hah! How did Juliet put up with him?
    As he dragged in several wheezing breaths, all her resentment vanished. Poor Papa. Not being able to leave his bed to order all of them about must drive him insane. It would certainly bedevil her. She returned to the bed, plumped up a fresh pillow, then eased it behind his back.
    He settled into it. “Mrs. Inchbald is ill informed.” He slid under the covers like a turtle withdrawing into its shell. “How could Knighton be heir to my title and estates if he is a bastard?”
    “Oh.” She frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
    “You see?” he mumbled, his face half-hidden by the sheets. “That is the trouble with you women—you never think things through. That is why women are so fickle. They let their feelings lead them about by the nose. One moment they love a man and the next they—”
    A flurry of activity in the hall startled them both. Servants called out, and feet pounded down the stairs. Rosalind rushed to the window, but couldn’t see the front drive. Still, the sounds of hoofbeats and wheels crunching the gravel drive signaled the arrival of a coach.
    Their cousin’s.
    “While I’d love to stay and listen to your wisdom concerning my gender,” she said dryly, “I can’t. Your precious Mr. Knighton is here.”
    She hurried to the door of the bedchamber, butwhen she turned the knob, the door wouldn’t open. She tried again with no success, then gawked at it, a horrid suspicion leaping into her mind. “Papa—” she began.
    “ ’Tis locked. I told Juliet to lock us in when she left.”
    She’d locked them in? Rosalind’s temper soared. Curse the wretched girl’s obedient nature! She kicked the door, wishing it was Juliet’s backside, then whirled on her father. “What do you hope to accomplish by this, Papa?”
    “I know you, gel. You’d run Knighton off before Juliet had a chance to meet him.” Even the capricious firelight didn’t disguise the Machiavellian gleam in his eyes. “So I told her not to let you out until our guest retires for the evening.”
    “If you think this will alter my behavior toward the man one whit—”
    “It matters not.” He rose, parting the covers like