Page 9 of Noble Scoundrel

Lifting her skirts, Katherine followed with held breath, muttering a silent prayer that, after weeks of searching and worrying, she was finally going to be reunited with Frederick.

Was she insane to trust the former bare-knuckle boxer currently leading her into the night?

Absolutely.

But she had no choice...no other avenues to explore.

Despite his gruff demeanor and the fact that she still had no idea how Frederick came to be in his keeping, a sharp instinct inside her urged her to go with him.

Chapter Four

The entire ride to the house in the opulent carriage Lady Katherine had waiting around the corner from Hale’s office was a study in discomfort.

Mason wasn’t accustomed to women of the nobility, though he’d been around a couple of them lately more than ever before. And this one possessed a quiet intensity that unsettled him. He’d expected a lady of her ilk to be arrogant and condescending, but he hadn’t expected her daring manner or the hint of cynicism that occasionally crept into her tone.

“Wait here,” he stated curtly when they entered the house, sending her a hard look he hoped would keep her in place. The effect was likely ruined when his gaze swept over her cloaked form with the hope of catching a glimpse of her figure.

Mason was an unabashedly carnal sort of man. He enjoyed fornication and all that came along with the act—the physical nature of it, the sounds, smells, heat, and mindlessness. But he wasn’t some randy idiot who couldn’t control himself.

Still...as he recalled those brief moments when she’d been confined in the circle of his arms—how her lithe, female body had tensed with bold defiance—heat roared through him.

The glitter of her steady, challenging gaze within such refined and elegant features tripped a previously undiscovered sexual trigger. That and how she managed to maintain an effective tone of command despite being at an obvious physical disadvantage. The woman simply refused to acknowledge when she was beaten.

And it seemed he enjoyed a little haughty disdain in a woman. Who knew?

Flicking his attention back up to her face, he noted her narrowed expression. Lady Katherine didn’t appear to appreciate his perusal any more than she’d liked being physically bested. Imagine what she would have done if he’d nipped the soft skin of her throat with his teeth like he’d been tempted to do while her hands had been secured behind her back.

Knee him in the groin, most likely.

With a low chuckle, he turned and left her in the entryway, where the garish décor couldn’t be disguised even by the lowered lamplight as he took the stairs two at a time to the upper levels of the townhouse.

The third floor was quiet, which wasn’t unusual. Mason had already learned that Freddie wasn’t a roughhousing, rambunctious type of child. And Claire...well, Mason’s daughter was still suffering from the aftereffects of what she’d gone through before Mason had been able to find her. He would forever be grateful to Dell Turner for locating his daughter before she’d been shipped off English soil, but he’d never forgive himself for allowing her to fall into such wretched hands in the first place.

He found the children in the schoolroom, as expected. Freddie sat in one corner of the thickly cushioned window seat with Claire snuggled up beneath his arm. The toddler’s pale curls contrasted against the boy’s dark coat. Her pudgy little hand was curled over his arm and her soft, feathering eyelashes swept her cheeks as she listened to him reading the storybook open in his lap.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to bring Freddie into his household, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stay indefinitely. But the girl had become fiercely attached to her young protector during their plight with Bricken’s gang. It would have been cruel to tear them apart when Claire still hadn’t developed the same level of trust in her father.

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