Free Lois Greiman by The Princess Masquerade Page A

eye. “If you said the very same thing without bastardizing the language one might actually believe you,” he said.
    “Would one?” she asked, and he wondered momentarily if she was mocking him.
    “As it is,” he said, “I simply wonder why you chose me. I had done you no harm, meant you no ill will.”
    She paced toward the trunk, glancing over her shoulder as she did so. And in profile, with her bruised eye hidden, she looked shockingly regal. “So you had never met this thief before?” she asked.
    For a moment he had thought she might fall into his trap, might feel a need to defend herself. After all, his motives had hardly been above reproach. But she strictly maintained her innocence. A niggle of doubt irked him. He pushed it aside.
    “No, I’d never met you before,” he said. “I’m certain I would have remembered.”
    She fluttered a hand to her chest. “Should I be flattered, my lord?”
    “Aye, you should,” he said. “I’ve rarely seen a better actress. Not for a moment did I suspect you planned to rob me.”
    She shrugged and bent over the trunk. “’Tis good to know. If one is to be taken for a thief, at least she should be good at the task.”
    “Accomplished,” he said.
    She glanced up at him, a question on her face, her hands on the nightgown she’d worn on the ship.
    “Anna has an extensive vocabulary,” he explained.
    “Anna. The great lady,” she guessed.
    “Yes.”
    “And why would I wish to be like ’er.”
    “Surely you’re not averse to bettering yourself.”
    “You think some noble title makes ’er better than me?”
    He began to correct her, but her back was up now.
    “Wealth don’t make her superior,” she said.
    “What of the fact that she doesn’t steal from innocent bystanders?”
    Her chin was still high. “Is that what you were?” she asked. “An innocent bystander?” She had turned toward him and kept the gown clasped to her chest. “Cuz from where I’m standing you don’t seem so innocent, Govner.”
    He watched her for a moment, then grinned. “No. Innocent I am not,” he said, and took a step toward her. “And what of you, lass? Are you innocent?”
    He thought she might step back, put distance between them, but she held her ground. “I am innocent of theft, if that’s what you mean.”
    “But not innocent overall?”
    “Do we not all fall short of the glory of God?”
    He shook his head, baffled. “When did you have access to scripture?”
    She shrugged. “’Tis common sense to believe we are all flawed, is it not?” she asked.
    “Some more than others.”
    “Of course,” she agreed. “But who is more imperfect, the one who has much but fails to share, or the one who takes what is needed to survive?”
    “Is that what you do, lass? Take only enough to survive?”
    “Is that what you have, viscount? Too little to share?”
    He opened his mouth to answer, but no worthwhile argument came to mind. “I believe I was asking about your innocence,” he said.
    She shrugged, her gaze steady. “I don’t remember you telling me of your own morality, Govner.”
    Nor would he, and it was hardly her place to ask. Still, the question rubbed him wrong. “Don’t shrug,” he said, knowing his tone was irritable. “A lady keeps her movements to a bare minimum.”
    “You’re funnin’ me,” she said.
    “Don your nightgown,” he ordered. “It will be a long day tomorrow.”
    She raised her chin slightly. “I’ll wait until you leave the room.”
    He shook his head. “No, lass,” he said. “We’ll be sharing this chamber.”
    Her mouth pursed in anger, and he almost laughed. Give him his medallion—he’d won another round.

Chapter 6
    M egan refrained from glancing toward her waiting escape route. “’Elp me understand,” she said, careful to retain her cool demeanor as she paced her borrowed bedchamber. She fought the speech lessons in an ongoing effort to make life difficult for him, but she enjoyed the steely expressions and