Karla Darcy - [Sweet Deception Regency 04] Read Free Page B

that there was another world outside of the battlefields. It brought home to him the necessity of defeating Napoleon to preserve the civilized England he knew.
    Bless the boy. Leslie's arrival at Windhaven had been the best day of Pax's life. It was amazing how in such a short time the child had become so much a part of his life. He had only been with the boy that first summer five years ago, then just a few weeks interspersed during the long campaign against the French. For Pax, who had been alone so much of his life, it was like having a younger brother to share a renewed discovery of the world. He realized that part of his eagerness to return to Windhaven was to help ease the boy from the gaucherie of childhood to the self-confidence of early manhood.
    Leslie had been poorly served when Pax had brought Cecily and her mother to share in the homecoming.
    Pax grinned as he remembered the boy's narrowed eyes as he took in the beribboned Cecily, bemoaning the rigors of the five-hour journey from London. Leslie had been too well bred to sneer, but the contempt shone clearly from his bright blue eyes. Hostility radiated from the lad as he made a stiff leg and then stormed off. Since then the battle lines had been drawn between the two. Cecily was skillfully conniving as she took every opportunity to cut Leslie out of any conversation or activity. For his part, Leslie was sunk in a fit of the sullens, snorting in disgust at the fluttering social butterfly. At first Pax had enjoyed the sniping attacks of the two but he was now prepared to end the skirmishes. He sighed deeply. After the masked ball he would somehow contrive to rid himself of the Cleavons so that he and Leslie could enjoy a proper homecoming.
     
     
    "Good morning, Leslie."
    Leslie moaned at Jacko's cheerful greeting and pulled the fluffy eiderdown over her head. She could hear the tinkling china as the old man juggled a breakfast tray, but ruthlessly ignored the sounds. Today might be a good day to stay in bed, she thought gloomily. The china rattled wildly, and Leslie felt a foot nudge her backside. Scrambling upright, she indignantly wrapped the comforter around herself, pushed her head through the top and leveled a jaundiced eye at the expressionless manservant.
    "Cook sent up a tray because she thought you looked peaky," Jacko mouthed unctuously. "'Sides, it's almost ten of the morning, Daffadar."
    The use of her nickname, which meant 'Sergeant' in Urdu, brought a smile to Leslie's lips and she winked at the old man as she settled herself to receive the loaded breakfast tray. Brushing the tumbled curls away from her face, she scooped up a piece of toast, almost purring as she bit into the jellied surface. Leslie wriggled in delight at the unexpected luxury of breakfast in bed.
    "There's a whopping big tear in your tan riding breeches, child. If you're planning to be out climbing trees again, at least wear your buckskins." The affection in Jacko's eyes belied the gruffness of his words.
    "It wasn't my fault this time. Honest," Leslie said as she took a sip of hot chocolate. "I was riding Night Wind when we found the apple tree. He decided to wander off when I was standing on the saddle reaching into the branches. I got the tear when I swung my leg over the branch to climb down."
    "Some day you're going to break your neck, Leslie," the white-haired man offered ominously.
    He opened the wardrobe and took out her hunting jacket as Leslie went contentedly back to her breakfast. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as the old man laid out her clothes for the day.
    Much had happened in the five years since she, Jacko and Manji had come to Windhaven.
    Then, Jacko was a feisty, rough-spoken soldier turned wet-nurse. Now his black suit was impeccable and his speech a model for the perfect gentleman's valet. Although outwardly he had changed, his fierce devotion to her remained uppermost in his mind. And Manji was now headroom of the stables, moving up when old