Gallant Waif by Anne Gracie (best ereader manga .TXT) 📕

in the kitchen with the servants. It was too ironic, really. Here she was, a girl who knew herself unable to marry, being courted by two gentlemen, neither of whom she wanted…

Kate sighed. For a short while, her life had been so pleasant. Now it was all changed. She still felt Jack’s eyes on her a hundred times a day, but instead of protectiveness and a lurking tenderness there was suspicion and brooding disapproval in his gaze. Whatever she did, he seemed to be furious with her. It was confusing, hurtful—and more than a little annoying.

She had no idea what his intentions or feelings towards her were. There was no denying that his kisses moved her like nothing she had ever experienced, but it was a feeling she knew she ought to fight. Even if by some wondrous chance he came to feel something deeper than lust for her, an alliance between them would not be possible. Anyone with a grain of sense would realise that in his position Jack would have to marry money.

Kate wondered what sort of a man his father had been to disinherit his son so callously. Had he not been playing cards the day he died, and won the deed to this property, Jack would be living. . .heaven knew where. At any rate, if he was to make anything further of his life, Jack would have to find himself an heiress, a well-born heiress—not a poor clergyman’s daughter with nothing but a tawdry scandal for her dowry…

“Miss Kate.” Florence interrupted Kate’s train of thought. “Are we goin’ to have the next bit o’ that story soon?”

Kate smiled. While cleaning the library a few weeks before, she had discovered some of Mrs Radcliffe’s novels. The vicar’s daughter had been utterly forbidden “rubbishy novels’, so naturally Kate had become addicted to them. Now, each evening, while Martha and the girls sewed and mended they also gasped with horror and delight as Kate read the heroine’s adventures aloud.

And Kate’s audience had grown. The girls’ sisters and brother, hearing each thrilling episode of The Mysteries of Udolpho retold at the farm, had soon decided that Millie and Florence needed to be escorted home. Each evening, the six Cotter siblings, Martha, Carlos, Francis’s groom, and even his very superior valet, “accidentally” arrived in the kitchen in time for the next episode.

Glancing around, Kate saw that her audience had assembled already. She hadn’t realised it was so late. She took out the book, sat down near the fire and began to read. An hour later, she closed the book, to the sighs and protests of her audience.

“Eh, Miss Kate,” said Millie’s brother, Tom. “That Sinner Montoni, ‘e’s a proper villain, ain’t ‘e? Our Dad alius says you can’t trust foreigners.” He tossed a dark look at Carlos.

“Si,” said Carlos immediately. “Me, I never trust Italians. . . never! That Signor Montoni is a bad man. Poor Miss Emily.”

There was a chorus of agreement. The girls shuddered eloquently and chattered about the story as they filed out.

“Coming up to bed now, dearie?” asked Martha.

“No, not yet.” Kate wasn’t at all tired, after her earlier sleep. “I think I’ll just sit here for a bit in front of the fire, Martha. You go up, though.” They exchanged their good-nights and Kate was soon left alone with her thoughts.

“How many more hidden talents do you have, I wonder?” The deep voice coining out of the shadows made her leap in fright. She turned and perceived Jack leaning casually against the scullery wall, half hidden by the gloom.

“How long have you been there?” she gasped.

He moved forward out of the darkness. “Twenty minutes or so. They were all so entranced by your reading that no one noticed when I came looking for you, so I decided not to disturb things. You read well, li’l Kate.” His voice was mocking and he stumbled over a chair.

Kate’s stomach clenched. He was drunk.

“Quite the li’l actress, aren’t you?” He loomed over her. Kate pressed back in her chair as far as she could. He reached out a long finger and brushed her nose lightly. “Spot o’ flour. Damned if I ever saw a woman so inclined to messiness.”

Kate jerked her head away from his hand. She did have a tendency to splash things around when she was working, and despite all her best efforts to remain neat she usually found a splatter of flour or a smear of dust on her face or hands when she went to have her usual nightly wash. But she was sure it was not nearly as bad as he implied. She rubbed her nose vigorously with her sleeve, watching him swaying gently on his feet.

“You’re foxed,” she said bluntly.

“And what if I am? “Tis none of your business what I do.”

Kate frowned. “Where is Francis?” she asked.

“So it’s Francis now, is it?” he sneered. “Very familiar you are with my friends.”

Kate did not reply. There was no point in arguing with him when he was in this state.

“Have you told him yet of your little arrangement with that greasy Cit?”

Kate had no doubt of whom he was speaking. “Please do not call Cousin Jeremiah rude names. I know you do not like him, but he is my only living relative, however distant.”

“And soon to become even closer, eh?” he jeered. “So much for all your pious talk of not marrying! All it takes is a wealthy Cit to smother you with flowers and greasy compliments, and all your res’lutions go down the drain.” He snorted in contempt. “Women! You’re just like all the rest of them. Let some fellow dangle his moneybags in front of you, and you’re all sweetness and compliance.”

He imitated her voice mockingly. “Oh, Cousin Jeremiah, I would be delighted. Dear Cousin Jeremiah, you wish to kiss me? Please do. Oh, yes, Cousin Jeremiah, I will wed you, will allow you to put your greasy paws all over me, to plant your disgusting fishy lips on mine!” He