Too Dangerous For a Lady Read Free Page A

her in exchange.
    They had been about to take the final step, to kiss, when her mother had rushed out to herd her back into the safety of the flock.
    Despite her mother’s whispered scold, she’d known he was no wolf and when he and his fellows had left at midnight, she’d had to conquer tears. She’d heard no more from him, but then, he could hardly write to her and had probably not felt the encounter as much as she. But she’d dreamed, when she’d allowed the folly, of encountering himat another ball, both of them older, when there’d be more possibilities.
    Never like this!
    She walked round to study him. Everything was blurred by his unkempt hair and a dark beard shadow. His loosely knotted neckerchief didn’t help, especially in garish stripes of red, green, and black. The clean-cut features were older and harsher, but surely it was him.
    He must have thought she was considering her actions, for he said, “My life truly is in danger if I’m caught, and I give you my word I’m not a villain. If you please, fair lady, tie me up and allow me to stay.”
    â€œWhat’s your surname?” she demanded.
    â€œGranger.”
    If he’d sunk to a life of crime, he’d use a false name. Thayne or Granger, she couldn’t send him out to his death, but if he stayed, she’d have to tie him up or she’d never sleep a wink. “Very well.” As she went to her valise, she probed for more information. “You don’t speak like a thief.”
    â€œYou don’t speak like a nursemaid.”
    â€œI’m a governess,” she said, pulling out a pair of stockings. They were her best pair, however, and this business could snag them. She put them back and chose the most darned ones and approached the chair. “Put your hands behind you.”
    â€œA good move,” he said approvingly, doing as told.
    She knew nothing of tying secure knots, but surely multiple knots would do the job. She knelt to use one stocking to tie his wrists together against the central bar at the back of the chair.
    â€œWhat’s your surname, Miss Minnie?”
    â€œNone of your business,” she said, disturbed by touching his hands. A lady didn’t handle any part of a man like this, and his hands were very fine—long fingered but strong. Nothing to help her recognition there. He’d worn gloves atthe ball. A scar ran across the backs of the fingers of his left hand. Some mishap when picking pockets? Or in battle.
    â€œWhat did you steal?” she asked.
    â€œOnly papers.”
    â€œThat could mean bonds, money drafts, or banknotes.”
    â€œIt could,” he agreed.
    She yanked another knot tight. She’d almost used up the stocking. “Once you’re tied, I could search you.”
    His fingers tensed. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”
    Dangerous papers, then. With dangerous people after them, who might not hesitate to harm innocent children. She walked round to the front of the chair, the remaining stocking in hand, and studied him again. He met her eyes guardedly. Her heart pounded. Oh, yes, this was the man. Years older and eons more experienced, but this was the onetime Lieutenant Thayne.
    He met her eyes braced for trouble.
    Clearly he didn’t remember her. That hurt, but why should he? After the ball she’d had nothing of importance to distract her from memory and infatuation, but he’d gone to war. When not fighting, he’d doubtless dazzled and sweet-talked a score of girls in Portugal, Spain, and France, and forgotten every one. He’d probably thrown away the silk rose, having already forgotten what bodice he’d cut it from. Even if he remembered, why should he connect a dancing partner with a “governess” in a plain brown gown, whose hair was half in, half out of its pins? She was twenty-three years old. Well enough for her age, but there was a special glow to a pretty girl in her