The Regency Season: Decadent Dukes: Rufus Drake: Duke of Wickedness / Griffin Stone: Duke of Decadence / Christian Seaton: Duke of Danger. Carole Mortimer

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Two

      “Anna? I asked why you are currently sitting up in that tree….”

      Guilty tears filled her eyes as she desperately sought for some explanation other than the truth. Her brother Mark would not be displeased but disappointed if he were to learn of her impetuous actions.

      Perhaps if her mother had lived, Anna might have been able to talk to her of the terrible restlessness that sometimes overcame her. The aching need inside her for adventure and excitement, and the desire she felt to break free of the shackles her lowly station in life had placed upon her.

      She had once talked to her papa about those feelings, and she had thought he understood, but not Mark. Her brother was so good and kind, and perfectly content with his life as parson of the parish. Which was, of course, to be commended.

      Except...

      Anna’s own feelings of restlessness had become greater of late rather than less. So much so that she now often escaped the parsonage to be on her own, to pretend that she was not herself at all but was instead a lady of the world, and that she could travel to London if she cared to. To Cairo. The Americas. That she might go anywhere she chose.

      But in none of those daydreams had Anna ever envisaged finding herself in such a scandalous situation, and with a gentleman as rakishly handsome as the one standing in front of her.

      Everything about him spoke of wealth and privilege, from the beautiful black stallion he rode to the perfectly tailored clothes he had so carelessly dropped onto the grass as he undressed. He possessed that air of bored cynicism so many of the gentlemen seemed to wear about them like a mantle.

      Could he not see, could none of them see, how lucky they were just to be men? To have the freedom to do what they wanted, and go where they wanted, whenever they wanted?

      “I am still waiting, Anna.”

      She cast off the feelings of melancholy, raising her chin determinedly, even as she inwardly asked for forgiveness for the untruths she was about to tell. “As I have said, I was strolling through the woods—”

      “Trespassing.”

      Anna ignored the jibe as she continued with her tale. “When I heard a poor little kitten meowing for help from up in a tree—”

      “This very tree?”

      “And being a good Samaritan,” Anna continued doggedly, despite his mockery, “I, of course, had no choice but to climb the tree and offer my help.”

      “Would you not have climbed the tree more comfortably if you had continued to wear your boots?” her tormentor taunted as he leaned comfortably against the trunk and looked up at her, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes almost on a level with her bared limbs.

      Anna tried again to pull her gown down—to no avail; it really was stuck fast on the branch slightly above and behind her. “I had to take off my boots so that I might remove my stockings. They are both expensive, you see, and I did not wish to damage them.”

      “Very commendable of you,” he drawled.

      “Unfortunately,” she continued determinedly, “once I had climbed up here, the kitten decided it did not need my help after all and it jumped nimbly to the ground before running off.”

      “Very ungrateful of it,” her tormentor nodded with a gravity that was completely nullified by the humour she could see glittering in his mocking eyes.

      “Whereas I,” Anna stated firmly, “appear to have caught my gown on a branch and am now stuck fast.”

      Rufus could see that, and he could recognise the blush of guilt colouring her creamy cheeks for exactly what it was. He had been a major in the king’s army, and in charge of dozens of mostly reluctant soldiers, and as such he was certainly capable of identifying a lie when he was told one. “Tell me, Anna,” he drawled as he straightened, “was there even one word of truth in that pretty story?”

      That guilty flush deepened in her cheeks. “Are you calling me a liar, sir?”

      “Oh yes,” Rufus confirmed without hesitation. “As I said, it was a pretty tale, and very well narrated, but all a lie, nonetheless.”

      Blue eyes warred with his unwavering green ones for several long seconds before she lowered her lashes and gave a defeated sigh. “I really was strolling through the woods initially,” she murmured softly.

      “And latterly?”

      She grimaced. “It has been so hot these past few days, and the pool looked so inviting.” She gave another sigh. “But then I heard your horse approaching through the trees, causing me to leave the water wearing only my chemise. I gathered up my things, and hoped by climbing the tree you would not see me as you rode past.”

      Rufus glanced across to where his horse, Caesar, was unconcernedly cropping grass, and inwardly cursed the black stallion for having made so much noise on their approach. Seeing this beautiful and outspoken young woman dressed only in her wet undergarments would no doubt have been extremely pleasurable.

      Almost as pleasurable as when she had looked her fill of his bare chest.

      “Except I did not ride past,” he stated the obvious.

      “No,” she accepted heavily.

      He nodded. “Your gown is stuck fast, you said?”

      “Yes.” She gave another ineffectual tug on the offending СКАЧАТЬ