Free The Toplofty Lord Thorpe by Kasey Michaels Page A

thing?”
    â€œThere’s no reason to be nasty,” Lucy said, bristling.
    â€œCertainly not!” Thorpe agreed. “My good name has been dragged through the mire; I am, according to your theory, about to be clapped in irons and tried for murder; my mother—once she gets wind of this—shall probably disown me; and my only supporters comprise an overly imaginative minx and my brainless twit of a cousin. Why ever should I be nasty?”
    â€œI am prepared to support you with all the fiber of my being,” Parker Rutherford said earnestly, if a bit stuffily.
    Julian looked at his cousin for a long moment before replying, “You have a most charming way of expressing yourself, Parker. It nearly unmans me to hear of such loyalty. Of course, the fact that you should be out of a job if I were to swing on the gibbet does not enter into your decision even a little bit, does it?”
    â€œLord Thorpe!” Lucy cautioned, thinking it unnecessarily brutal to say such a thing aloud—even though she privately agreed with him.
    â€œWhat? Have I said something that is not true?” he returned, feigning ignorance. “After all, I can’t see our friend Dexter retaining my secretary, can you? I rather think Parker has little choice but to be loyal.”
    Parker broke in before Lucy could say anything else in his defense. “Please do not concern yourself on my account, Miss Gladwin. Lord Thorpe is quite right. I do rely on him for my daily bread. But that is not my only reason for believing in his innocence. If you’ll recall, my lord,” he said, turning to face his employer, “I was with you at Hillcrest this past winter season. I know you were not involved with any female while we were there.”
    â€œAh, that is more like it, Parker,” his lordship said with maddening calm. “Blind loyalty would have been nice, but I find it easier to believe deductive reasoning. I was not openly involved with this Anscom woman while at Hillcrest; ergo, I am blameless in her death. Tell me, my loyal secretary—did you really think that if I were so desperate for a bit of dalliance that I would go about seducing some poor impoverished gentlewoman, I should advertise that fact? Disabuse yourself of the notion that you know my every movement.”
    â€œAnd he said I was digging his grave for him,” Lucy muttered under her breath, watching the questioning look steal into Parker’s watery blue eyes. More loudly she trilled, “Oh, look! I believe we could stop for some refreshments? I vow I’m famished!”
    Just then, as if Lucy had conjured him up to aid her in her determination to find another topic of conversation, Dexter rode up to the coach window and called, “My belly thinks m’throat’s been cut, coz. What say we stop for a bird and a bottle?”
    Lucy closeted herself with her aunt and maid during the time they stopped for luncheon at a small country inn, then chose to ride out the rest of that day’s leg of the journey with the women. Lord Thorpe needed time to become accustomed to his new situation in life, and she had decided to let him alone a bit to do his adjusting. After all, she wouldn’t put it past him to change his mind and send them all back to town at the next posting inn if they gave him any more reason to doubt his decision of allowing them to help clear his name.
    â€œDexter has decided to ride inside the coach this afternoon, Aunt,” she told Rachel as she settled in beside her on the padded seat, “and once that idiot starts in teasing Mr. Rutherford, I would not care to be within earshot of Lord Thorpe’s biting tongue. Dex seems to have such a talent for rubbing up his cousin the wrong way.”
    Just one hour after that statement the entire train drew to a halt to allow the earl to leave the comfort of his well-sprung coach in order to seek a little fresh air—and a bit of peace—atop