Moon Love Read Free Page B

first line of inquiry. Was there anything else? No, I thought not, but thank you, Lady – What is your name?”
    “Miss Bratty. Lord Ashworth is my stepfather. I am not called Lady Amelia.”
    He nodded. “Thank you, Miss Bratty. And now I must be about my business.”
    When he opened the door, needles of rain were blown in on the wind. The downfall was light, but wind buffeted the treetops, suggesting a storm was imminent. A rumble of thunder grumbled nearby.
    “You should wait here until the storm is over,” she said. “That nag you hired at the Rose and Thistle shies at lightening. Caesar has thrown many an unsuspecting rider.”
    His curt bow was more an insult than a compliment. “Thank you for the warning, but he’ll not throw me. Good day.”
    He darted down the two steps, hopped astride the mount, tipped his fingers to his curled beaver and galloped off into the rain. Amy watched him leave with a sinking heart. It had gone even worse than she feared, and since first meeting the Wolf, she had not imagined it would go well. He had no intention of working with her. Her instinct was to let him flounder and come to grief on his own, but this matter was too important for taking a petty revenge on a toplofty London buck.
    Who could he be? It seemed to put her at a disadvantage, not knowing his real name when he knew hers. His arrogance suggested he was someone important. Very likely a lord. Lord or not, he would return to the inn covered in mud, as he had not heeded her warning about Caesar. A mischievous smile quirked her lips. She felt an unworthy wish that she could see him in his humiliation.
    * * * *
    Riding an unfamiliar mount in the dark along an unknown road was uncomfortable at any time. The sullen ocean growled in the distance. On either side, tall trees groaned as the wind swept them. With the rain pelting in his face, Ravencroft was extremely irritated. He was unhappy that Sir George had saddled him with an untrained female who dabbled in intrigue, no doubt to lighten the tedium of living in this provincial backwater. That the trip had been in vain was an added irritant.
    Despite Miss Bratty’s good intentions, she could prove a nuisance, and she had nothing to tell him. He already knew Bransom had been working with the smugglers. Who else was in close touch with France? He would not encourage her. He smiled at her childish notion of setting up a bolt hole so close to Bratty Hall. If he required some place to hide, why not hide in comfort at the Hall? A flash of jagged lightening rent the sky, revealing the charcoal branches of nude trees and momentarily turning the ocean to glistening silver.
    Caesar reared up on his hind legs and bolted. Ravencroft held on for dear life as the horse careened down the road. It wasn’t the rearing that unseated him, however. That came when Caesar dashed under an overhanging branch that caught him a stout blow on the forehead, sending his curled beaver into the mud, and himself beside it.
    Caesar didn’t stop, but galloped home to the stable of the Rose and Thistle. Ravencroft walked the mile with a howling headache, cursing the horse, the lightening, himself, and Miss Bratty for having invented this perfectly useless journey. What had he learned? Nothing, except that he must avoid Miss Bratty.
     

Chapter Three
     
    At Bratty Hall, Amy was distracted from nursing her grudge by tending to her stepfather. His physical health was indeed precarious, but this was not the only impediment to his helping the Wolf. His mind had been going for some years now. One year ago, he had reverted completely to childhood.
    It was Amy who had made the initial contact with Sir George and informed him of questionable doings on the coast. The Wolf’s behaviour confirmed how little attention Sir George would have paid to a young lady. She was glad she had signed her missives with her stepfather’s old seal. Bransom, initially known as the Bat, had accepted her help without question. But the