Free The Reluctant Reformer by Lynsay Sands Page B

reluctance.
    It was his turn to pause. “Maggie?” he finally gasped, then shook his head and corrected himself. “I mean Lady Margaret?” He grinned. “Gerald often spoke of you. He…” Lord Mullin paused and frowned up at the sky as it again began to rain. “Come.”
    Before she quite knew what was happening, he had taken her arm and hustled her to his carriage. Ignoring her protests, he ushered her inside, then went to have a word with his driver. Extremely self-conscious about her less-than-pristine state, Maggie folded the sides of her skirt over the front, tucking just a bit of each side panel between her knees to keep the cloth there. The action hid a good deal of her soiled skirt, but did little to hide the smell.
    Groaning inwardly, she offered a nervous smile to Lord Mullin as he entered the carriage and pulled the door closed behind him. Settling on the opposite bench seat, he didn’t seem to notice the smell. He was busy grinning. “Gerald’s sister. I can hardly fathom it.”
    Maggie offered him a pained smile. She wasn’t surprised he could “hardly fathom it.” She wasn’t exactly at her best. That thought decided her to make an effort to repair at least some of the damage, and she set to work trying to return some semblance of normalcy to her hair. Unfortunately, it appeared that her lie of having lost a hairpin had become a reality. Several of her hairpins had been lost during her sojourn into the bushes.
    â€œGerald, James, and I were in the same unit. Lord Ramsey,” he added after a moment. “He is my neighbor. In fact, those were his woods you were mucking about in.”
    Maggie stilled under his speculative gaze. This man and Lord Ramsey were neighbors? He had been on his way home from the village when he’d come across her, and from his reaction, he had not yet conferred with her abductor…Which meant her host’s claims were likely true. Her kidnapper was indeed James Huttledon, Mullin’s neighbor, and the Lord Ramsey her brother had mentioned so frequently. Recalling her brother’s adulation of the man in his letters, she also supposed that Ramsey had been telling the truth regarding his reasons for kidnapping her. He probably had had the best of intentions.
    Not that any of them mattered, Maggie decided grimly. She had escaped those good intentions and intended to stay escaped. Banks and the rest of her staff must be quite upset by now. She had to get home and let them know she was all right. Besides, there was surely nothing Lord Ramsey could do. She had been over and over her situation. Carrying on with her journalistic career was the only acceptable way to make the money she needed.
    Of course, it didn’t bode well for her escape that she had ended in the carriage of a friend of the man who had kidnapped her. That was rather deucedly bad luck. She was just beginning to ponder what it could mean to her plans when Lord Mullin spoke again.
    â€œWhat were you doing—”
    â€œYou said Gerald spoke of me?” Maggie interrupted to distract him. It worked.
    â€œSpoke of you?” Robert chuckled. “Yes. He spoke of you often. He, James, and I were thick as thieves, and he used to read your letters aloud to us around the fire at night. In fact, between his talking about you and our sharing your letters, I feel as if I already know you. Gerald was very proud of you,” he added with a sad smile.
    Maggie returned the expression. Her brother had always liked to talk. She had no doubt that he had regaled his friends with tales of their youth, and that he’d related them as vibrantly as he’d penned the articles for the Express . Gerald had always had a way with words. She hadn’t been at all surprised to learn of his secret occupation; it had suited him.
    Her gaze returned to Lord Mullin, and she stiffened. There was a perplexed look on his face, and he was turning his head