The Viscount's Surprise

Anthony held the door open for Phil to pass through. She kept her eyes downcast and her cheeks were pale. Her clothes had almost dried from the drenching she'd received in the rain, but she still had the look of a drowned kitten with her short auburn hair curling wildly about her head. Thank God, the innkeeper accepted her as the urchin she appeared to be.

Anthony placed his hat and gloves on the table in the middle of the room and waited.

Phil stood near the fire, and after the door closed, she turned to face Anthony. "Well, my lord? You wished to speak to me?"

He had to admire the girl's courage. She'd successfully hidden her true identity for years, and she must suspect that he'd discovered her secret, yet seemed determined to play it through to the end.

"The game's up, my dear Phil. But your name is obviously not Phillip as I had supposed. What is it?"

Her green eyes widened and that damned chin lifted a notch. "Philomena, my lord."

Slowly, Anthony walked toward the fireplace. "Well then, Philomena--"