Sherri Cobb South Read Free Page B

disappearance to die down. Lisette, in her boy’s clothes, chafed under this forced inactivity, but Lord Waverly, while not unsympathetic, remained adamant. By day, he did his best to enliven his ward’s confinement by recounting highly expurgated tales of his life in London; by night, he presented himself without fail at the Salon des Étrangers, where his skill at hazard soon won him the wherewithal to hire a post-chaise to convey them to Calais, where they might board a packet for Dover.
    In exchange for one of his livelier (and more heavily edited) stories, Lord Waverly required an accounting of how she came to escape from the convent of Sainte-Marie.
    “I never wished to enter the convent at all,” Lisette replied candidly, “but Maman and Papa died when I was still quite young—” Waverly’s lips twitched slightly at the implication that Lisette’s youth lay in the distant past. “—and Oncle Didier and Tante Simone, who had taken me in, they wish me to marry mon cousin Raoul, who has a face like a weasel. Quel horreur!”
    “Unthinkable!” agreed Lord Waverly, and although he shuddered visibly, his blue eyes gleamed with amusement.
    “You tease me, milord, but it is quite true,” Lisette chided him. “Alors, when I tell Raoul I will not marry him, Oncle Didier and Tante Simone say I must take the veil, for they have not the means to support me any longer. For Papa was cut off by his papa for marrying Maman, and so I have no expectations.”
    Waverly raised a hand to interrupt this rambling monologue. “A moment, please. I thought you said your paternal grandfather would reward me handsomely for bringing you safely to England.”
    Lisette’s black-eyed gaze fell to her lap, and she looked the picture of guilt. “As to that, I have never met mon grand-père, although I know he is very rich. And,” she added hopefully, looking eagerly up at the earl, “I should think that by this time he must regret most bitterly that he cast off his only son, oui? And be pleased to discover he has une petite-fille?”
    Lord Waverly tried to look stem, and failed. “I see it all now! You did not escape from the convent at all. The Mother Superior undoubtedly tossed you willy-nilly over the wall!”
    Lisette looked up hopefully. “Then milord is not angry?”
    “On the contrary, I consider it a judgment upon me for over-imbibing.”
    Lisette snatched up his hand and pressed it to her lips. “Oh, I am so glad, for I have suffered agonies of guilt!”
    “You will pardon me for observing that you kept your sufferings remarkably well-hidden,” remarked Lord Waverly, gently withdrawing his hand from Lisette’s grasp. “You are a designing minx, and I can only wonder that you went so meekly to Saint-Marie.”
    “Oh, but Tante Simone assured me that I did not have to stay if I did not like it. Moi, I know I will not like it, but Tante is sad because I will not marry her son, so I do as she wishes and go to Sainte-Marie. And I am très misérable, just as I expected.”
    “And your uncle and aunt?”
    “I write to them many letters, telling them I am unhappy, but they never come for me. So the night before I am to make my vows, I stay awake all night. I tell Mamére I wish to spend the night in prayer, and she allows me to keep a candle burning in my chamber. And I do pray, but my prayers are for deliverance. Also I tear my bed sheets into strips and make for myself a rope. Then, much later, I climb up to the roof, tie my rope to the gutter, and lower myself down over the wall. That is when you came along.” She paused here and regarded Lord Waverly seriously. “Do you think I am very wicked, running away from the convent when it was what my uncle and aunt particularly wished?”
    “My dear child,” the earl was moved to declare, “I think you are quite possibly the bravest person I have ever known.”
    But her bravery was to be tried still further. They departed for Calais at ten o’clock in the morning, in