Sherri Cobb South Read Free

that I am reduced to ravishing nuns!”
    “Non, milord, of course not,” Lisette said meekly.
    “It is after five o’clock, and I am dead on my feet,” Waverly continued. “I daresay it behooves me to offer you the bed while I take the sofa.”
    “Non, pas du tout,” Lisette hastened to assure him. “I am sure I could not shut my eyes.”
    The earl shrugged. “As you wish.”
    He disappeared into the adjoining chamber, and a moment later the thump-thump of his boots hitting the floor informed Lisette that he had lost no time in seeking his bed. She glanced toward the windows that looked down onto the Rue des Saint-Pères, wishing she had the courage to peer behind the curtains. Though she dared not for fear of being seen, a pale gray light visible through the folds suggested that sunrise was imminent.   At the convent of Sainte-Marie, the sisters would be assembling for matins, and one of them would be dispatched to rouse lazy Sister Marie-Thérèse from her bed. But Sister Marie-Thérèse would not be there. Her absence would be discovered, and a hue and cry raised which would spread like wildfire throughout Paris.
    Lisette stepped away from the window and glanced toward the room where reposed her sleeping rescuer.  He slumbered on, apparently oblivious to the world, but Lisette remained awake for a long time, acutely aware of having thoroughly burned her bridges behind her.
     

Chapter 2
     
    The meeting points the sacred hair dissever From the fair head, forever and forever!
    ALEXANDER POPE, The Rape of the Lock
     
    Lord Waverly awoke late that afternoon with a throbbing head. Rolling over in bed, he discovered that he was fully clothed save for his boots. But greater surprises were yet in store, for the door to the sitting room was ajar, and through the open doorway could be seen a very young girl in the white habit of a novice. She was stirring sugar into a cup of steaming coffee, but upon glimpsing a movement in Waverly’s room, she looked up from this task.
    “Good morning, milord,” she said cheerfully. “You would like some café, oui?”
    “Who the devil are you?” demanded the earl. The little nun laid aside her cup and regarded him in some surprise. “But do not you remember me? I am called Lisette. You promised to take me to England.”
    Lord Waverly raked his fingers through his hair, further disarranging his raven locks. “Couldn’t you see I was drunk?”
    “Oui, so you said at the time,” Lisette said placidly, retrieving her cup and sipping the warm liquid.
    Waverly leaped to his feet, and instantly regretted it. The room spun crazily around him, forcing him to sit down on the edge of the bed. “And you came with me anyway? Good God, girl, have you run mad?”
    “Mais non, milord, you were in every way the gentleman. You even offered me the bed.”
    “Well, that was certainly generous of me,” muttered the earl. “Thank God you had the sense to refuse that offer, at any rate.”
    “Oh, but you assured me you were not so desperate for, ah, la société de la femme that you would stoop to ravishing les religieuses”
    Waverly groaned and covered his bloodshot eyes with his hand. “I must have been even drunker than I imagined!”
    “Now you would like some café, oui? Will you take sugar?”
    “No, make it straight black,” said Lord Waverly, accepting a cup from her hand. Having drunk two cups of this reviving brew, he washed, shaved, and dressed, after which he felt more capable of facing the situation in which he now found himself.
    “So I promised to take you to England,” he remarked to his companion. “Did I, by any chance, happen to mention what I intended to do with you when we arrived there?”
    “Mais oui, milord. You agreed to take me to mon grand-père, who will give you a reward of the most generous for your trouble.”
    “So this shatter-brained scheme was your idea? You relieve my mind! Now it remains only to decide how we are to smuggle you out of