Free Compromised Miss by Anne O'Brien Page B

than that, as did her own.
    Would he regret this further complication in his life? He shrugged the thought away abruptly, until his bruised shoulder caused him to hiss through his teeth at the pain. Probably he would. Did he not have enough troubles at the moment with discovering the present whereabouts of Mademoiselle Marie-Claude? He frowned, not seeing a way forward there, and contact with Jean-Jacques Noir was becoming hazardous. Should he tell Harriette about that? No. Not yet, at least. Better to keep his mouth tightly shut and his fears to himself—as he had been warned that he must.
    For now he had the prospect of a wife, the last thing he wanted at this point in his life when he was living a lie and burdened with guilt, but in all honour, he could not abandon her. A strange alliance. A smuggler and a…what? Spy? Traitor? Some would undoubtedly say the latter. Anunscrupulous pairing, but Miss Lydyard had the Ghost , too good a chance to miss it if it allowed him to save an innocent young woman from harm.
    And whatever happened, he would make sure Miss Harriette Lydyard did not suffer for her compliance.
    Would Harriette Lydyard enjoy being a countess? Somehow he doubted it. He would wager she would rather face a gale-force wind in the Lydyard’s Ghost than a dress ball. But she wanted freedom from family restrictions; he saw the value of a fast ship to France. Both had an eye to a main chance, as she had observed in those cool tones of disdain, pure self-interest for both of them.
    And what did he think of a girl who wore breeches and boots, evaded the law and ran the gauntlet of the Revenue men without any hint of fear? He ought to be outraged. Luke smiled wryly. Somehow he could not summon that emotion in his dealings with Miss Harriette Lydyard. He ought to be thoroughly outraged, condemning her morals and her sense of propriety. Even now, their final exchange in the library remained to echo uncomfortably in his mind.
    As he was about to open the door, Harriette had stopped him. ‘If I am to wed you, does this mean that you would prefer me to give up smuggling?’
    ‘Yes,’ he had replied in some surprise, without hesitation. ‘How could I wish my wife to be involved in criminal activities? Ah!—that’s to say…’
    ‘I suppose you think it’s a vicious, damnable trade.’ She must have seen him searching for a tactful response. ‘Most people do, you know, even though it puts food into the mouths of poor women and children in fishing villages, who might otherwise starve.’ She raised her hand when he might have replied. ‘I understand—you don’t have to hide your condemnation of it, or me. I will just say this, my lord.I will consider retiring from the Trade, because it is your preference.’
    And that was as much as she would promise. Now he must live with the consequences. Was it possible to build a future on a fleeting and wholly inexplicable admiration for Miss Lydyard, simply because she had rescued him and saved his life? An admiration because she had faced him and flung his offer of wealth and consequence at his feet as so much dross?
    One memory remained with him. That, smuggler or no, she had been eminently kissable. He had tasted her lips and found them as soft and sweet as any he might dream of. Lucius had been astonished at the response of his body, even in its weakened state. Lured into kissing her a second time, a surge of desire had taken him aback; his loins had tightened in powerful arousal when her lips parted beneath the pressure of his mouth. Her slender, competent hands pressed against his chest had lit a curl of heat in his belly at the same time as a purely masculine urge to protect her from the dangerous life she was living. He wanted her! Even now, at the memory of her slender form held in his arms, he experienced the same physical urgency to do exactly what her despicable brother had accused him of doing.
    It’s only a strong dose of lust, he informed himself sternly. A