Free Bite Me, Your Grace by Brooklyn Ann

spell was broken and they spent the next half hour struggling with stilted small talk, not daring to meet each other’s gazes.
    The doctor arrived, not batting an eye at the young lady in male garb.
    â€œMiss Winthrop is a neighbor and dear friend of mine.” Ian had worked out a plausible lie. “She had a quarrel with her mother and sought a confidante. Unfortunately, she was so overwrought that she tripped on my doorstep.” He shook his head at the idea of such female silliness, ignoring Angelica’s snort of disgust.
    â€œI want you to say she was found on the sidewalk,” Ian concluded. “She is well-bred and I do not want her compromised. You will be well compensated, naturally.”
    Dr. Sampson nodded and patted his black medical bag. “Just the thing. Now I shall see to the little patient, and then we may get her home to her worried parents.”
    Ian paced the hallway, hoping Angelica’s ankle wasn’t broken and that her foolish stunt wouldn’t get her into too much trouble. As his jaw clenched, he was disturbed about how much he cared, especially with the new concern that she’d reveal his secret. He frowned. Surely she couldn’t be so foolish. And if she was, what would he do then? He couldn’t kill her, and he sure as hell couldn’t Change her.
    An hour later, the doctor brought Angelica to the foyer, half carrying her. “Hellloooo again, Your Grace,” she slurred with a silly smile on her lush lips.
    â€œThe young lady’s ankle is not broken,” Dr. Sampson announced briskly. “But it is badly sprained. I’ve given her a dose of laudanum, and I will instruct her parents that she must stay off her feet for at least a week. She may have use of a crutch by tomorrow, God willing.” He inclined his head in gratitude as Ian handed him a banknote. “I will take her to the carriage now.”
    â€œGood-bye, Miss Winthrop.” Ian kissed the back of her hand.
    â€œI shall miss you, Your Grace,” Angelica giggled, swaying from the effects of the laudanum. “Even though you bit me.”
    The doctor raised a brow, and Ian shrugged his shoulders as if he had no idea what she meant.
    He watched as she was loaded into the waiting carriage. I think I will miss you too, Angel. Perhaps he would steal a dance when she was healed.
    ***
    Albert, Burnrath’s coachman, was able to hold his silence for nearly twenty-four hours. But the news that a young lady of the Quality had been carried out of the duke’s house dressed like a boy and with a sprained ankle was too juicy a tidbit to hold in. Especially since the duke himself had been partially undressed. Albert told his current ladylove, who was the Cavendish’s parlor maid, while walking with her in the park on her day off.
    The maid told Lady Cavendish at her first opportunity. The countess often shared her chocolate bonbons when presented with titillating news. By the next evening, the ton was speculating on just who the young lady was. When callers were turned away from the Winthrop house due to Angelica being abed with a sprained ankle, gossip raged through the nobility like wildfire. Since the last news one usually heard was about oneself, the Winthrops and their household were blissfully unaware of their slaughtered reputations.

Seven
    Angelica hummed a merry tune as she wrote “The End” at the bottom of the last page of her story, “The Haunting of Rathton Manor.” When Liza returned, she would have her deliver the manuscript to Colburn and return with her twelve pounds. “The Ghost of the Highwayman” had already been published and had received excellent reviews to her delight and her father’s pride. Her mother, for once, had kept her lips pursed in silence, only muttering her disapproval in the background. Now that she’d confessed her writing success to her parents, Angelica had renewed her hope that she could convince