How to Tame a Wild Rogue by Julie Anne Long

Author:Julie Anne Long
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-07-25T00:00:00+00:00

The next morning . . .

The rain and wind had eased a bit, but no one was fooled. The storm was clearly pacing itself for the marathon it intended. The clouds were fat, low, lead-gray and juicy, and in the distance, thunder grumbled. The Thames was the same gray as the sky; wind chopped it into restless swells and foam.

Together St. Leger, Bolt, Hardy, and Delacorte walked in near silence to the docks. Their moods were the collective equivalent of the weather.

True to his word, Delacorte had intermittently snored like someone sawing away at a rusty anchor. And Lorcan dreamed of Daphne’s stricken face when she’d seen the ashes of her stockings. As if she’d seen the remains of her hope go up in flames.

Bloody hell. The guilt. Over stockings.

He wondered if she’d slept. Or if she was spending the morning hurriedly dashing off an acceptance to her marriage proposal, begging her swain to come and fetch her at once lest she endure one more moment with a heathen.

The streets were surprisingly milling with people, all of whom had bolted from their hidey-holes to run an errand or stretch their legs before the next battering onslaught.

He’d been away from this area for some years. There had been a time when he’d been quite familiar with it. The docks, after all, were a prime place to move smuggled goods.

And yet quite a few hats were surreptitiously tipped as he passed; heads nodded; eyes flared in surprised recognition.

Lorcan nodded in return.

And one or two men immediately crossed to the far side of the road. Far, far away from him.

Finally, the four men reached the harbor and stared out at the vast collection of ships, none of which were charred ruins. It was a relief to discover that lightning had spared them.

“Your Lordship.”

The woman’s quiet voice came from the right of Lorcan. On her hip rested a child with bright blond hair whose entire fist was shoved into his mouth and whose other arm was around his mother’s neck. He regarded Lorcan solemnly.

“I’m Mrs. Brown. Perhaps you’ll remember. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me Davey.”

“I remember, Mrs. Brown. Twas naught,” he said shortly. Very aware that three other men were listening.

“It wasn’t,” she insisted softly. “It was a miracle for us. Kept us alive, dint it? He’s on a ship now, Davey. ’as a good job. ’e keeps us well.”

“I am very glad to hear it.”

“I’d ’oped to ’ave a chance to one day thank you,” she said shyly.

Lorcan merely nodded.

“This is wee Michael,” she told him.

“Fine little chap,” he said.

Michael pulled his fist from his mouth with a wet suctiony sound and beamed at him.

“We be waitin’ for ’is da,” the woman told him. “He’s to meet us here.” And then she curtsied and backed away, as if she knew her audience with him was concluded.

Michael craned his head over his shoulder to stare unabashedly at Lorcan. When he beamed, his entire little face seemed to fold in two.

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