Regency Marriages: A Compromised Lady / Lord Braybrook's Penniless Bride. Elizabeth Rolls

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СКАЧАТЬ a match between them. If he could focus on them through the haze of fury that enveloped him when he thought of Dunhaven. Or the desire that tightened his loins every time he laid eyes on Thea.

      Had she seen his thoughts in his eyes as she regained consciousness? If he were to be brutally honest with himself, he couldn’t swear even now that he wouldn’t have kissed her. He thought he wouldn’t. He hoped he wouldn’t! Surely he wasn’t such a cad as to take advantage of an unconscious woman? But he wasn’t quite sure. She’d exploded in panic before he’d been put to the test.

      The worst of it was that little though he might like to admit it, the thought had been there. Oh, not to actually ravish her! But feeling her soft weight in his arms, breathing the fragrance of her hair, seeing those soft pink lips parted and vulnerable—his whole body had tightened with the urge to taste, his fingers had itched to caress her cheek and find out if it really was softer than silk. Not to mention the graceful curve of her throat.

      He swore. If he kept on like this he’d be a basket case before ever they reached Richmond.

      Thea was awaiting him in the hall, fashionably attired in a carriage dress of deep blue twill when he brought the curricle around to the front door. Almeria came out with her.

      ‘Thank you, Richard,’ she said, as he got down. ‘A drive is just what will do Dorothea good after last night. A dreadful business. I cannot believe that Laetitia Chasewater, of all people, was so lost to all sense of decorum! And I am determined that tonight we shall attend only Lady Fairchild’s musicale.’

      ‘A very sensible decision, Almeria.’

      He understood perfectly. It was vital that Thea continued to be seen, but at a musicale chatter was perforce limited. Of course there would be supper afterwards, but, knowing Lady Fairchild, it would be a small, select affair. All the better if it were.

      He handed Thea up into the curricle and hid a smile to see that Almeria, even if she hadn’t precisely pushed Thea into the vehicle, was reaching up to pat her on the hands.

      ‘Enjoy your drive, dear. And a little stroll along the river. I am sure you will find it refreshing.’

      She stepped back and Richard gave his horses the office, putting them into a slow trot the moment his groom, Minchin, had swung up behind.

      Impossible to have any private conversation with Minchin there, so he kept the talk to indifferent topics as he threaded the curricle through the streets and out on to Piccadilly. There the traffic rendered any conversation impossible, until he was past Apsley House and the Knightsbridge Turnpike.

      They trotted on, out through the village of Chelsea and on down through Walham Green to cross the river at the Putney Bridge before turning west again to go around to Petersham. It was a glorious day, sunny with a gentle breeze and with London far behind them. Thea relaxed. It seemed that every bird in England was singing for joy in the hedgerows at the fragrance of wildflowers and damp grass, driving out all fear, all memory. She pushed it away, determined, if only for this one perfect day, to live entirely in the moment and not worry about what might be around the corner, or what lay shadowed in the past. Right here, right now, she was happy.

      ‘A penny for your thoughts.’

      Richard’s voice broke in on her trance-like state. She sighed. ‘I was thinking that it would be lovely to live out in the country, somewhere like this, not too far from London so that one might come up easily to visit friends or go to the theatre.’

      ‘But still live peacefully away from the crash and clatter?’

      She looked at him gratefully. ‘Yes, that’s it exactly. I think when all this is over, after my birthday, that is what I shall do.’

      ‘Your birthday?’

      ‘Once I turn twenty-five, under the terms of my uncle’s will, I receive two hundred pounds a year whether I marry or not, and whether Aberfield likes it or not. I can do as I please.’

      ‘I see.’

      ‘Do you disapprove?’

      He laughed. ‘Would it make any difference to you?’

      She hesitated, and Richard waited, oddly aware that her answer was somehow important. At last she said, ‘No. Not if I thought I was right. I should be sorry to disappoint you, but even if I make a mistake, it would be my mistake.’

      He could hardly quarrel with that. It was his own creed—make your own mistakes and learn from them. His heart leapt in recognition. This could work. More than work.

      Encouraged, he began to talk about his plans for his property, what improvements he had made in the house, how sheltered it was from the worst of the Channel storms. ‘A little further from London than this,’ he said, as he drew his horses up outside the inn in Petersham. ‘But still close enough to come up easily for a visit.’ Minchin sprang down and went to the horses’ heads. ‘And don’t tell Almeria,’ he added, ‘but I’ve just bought a small town house.’

      ‘Don’t tell her? She’d be delighted,’ said Thea.

      He let himself down carefully to the road, aware that his leg had stiffened slightly. ‘Not when she finds out where it is, she won’t be.’

      Thea looked her question.

      ‘Bloomsbury,’ he confessed.

      Laughter rippled. ‘Near the museum?’

      ‘Mmm. She’ll probably have palpitations.’ Then, casually, ‘Should you mind?’

      ‘No, of course not.’

      She looked at him oddly and he held up his hands to help her down. Time to change the subject. ‘Are you hungry?’ he asked. ‘We could have something to eat here and then stroll along the river.’

      The river slid past, deep and tranquil. They hadn’t walked very far. Richard had produced a bag of old bread from the curricle. In her childhood a drive out to Richmond or Petersham with a picnic and a walk along the river to feed the ducks had been a high treat. Standing there on the bank, throwing bread to the quacking, squabbling ducks, she could almost forget her worries and how many years it had been since last she did this.

      Richard’s deep quiet voice drew her back. ‘Has it occurred to you how similar our plans are?’

      She threw a piece of bread to a duck. ‘Standing beside the Thames feeding greedy ducks?’

      He laughed. ‘No. Although that’s part of it. Neither of us wants any sort of public life—we both plan to live in the country, at not too great a remove from town.’

      A swan moved in, its grace belied by its quickness in lunging for a scrap of bread.

      ‘A quiet life,’ he continued.

      She threw bread to the swan. ‘I’m not planning to run an estate and breed sheep,’ she said.

      ‘You could learn to help, though,’ he said. ‘And I’d enjoy teaching you.’

      Shock hummed through her as she began to see where this was leading.

      ‘Richard—you … you СКАЧАТЬ