Название: Regency High Society Vol 3
Автор: Elizabeth Rolls
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
isbn: 9781408934296
isbn:
The fact that the maddening creature was absolutely right did nothing to improve her state of mind, and when he calmly slid between the sheets, patting that portion of bed beside him invitingly, as though he expected her to play her part to the full, the tenuous hold she had maintained over her temper finally snapped, and she whisked the top coverlet off the bed.
He neither made the least attempt to stop her from taking it, nor, which was more infuriating still, did he offer to do the gentlemanly thing and suggest that he spend the night in one of the easy chairs by the hearth. He merely bade her an infuriating ‘Goodnight,’ before slipping further between the sheets.
Muttering under her breath, Katherine went about the airy chamber extinguishing the candles. For all his protestations to the contrary, she strongly suspected that Major Ross was attaining much amusement out of her evident discomfiture in having to share this room with him.
She shook her head, marvelling at her own stupidity. How on earth she could have imagined that there was the remotest possibility of her ever liking him she would never know. Without doubt he was the most maddening, detestable creature it had ever been her misfortune to meet!
Chapter Six
The following morning, when finally she had managed to prise open her eyelids a fraction, Katherine felt as if she had taken a punishing tumble from a horse. There didn’t seem to be an inch of her that didn’t ache abominably, and her poor back felt as if it might break if she attempted to move. Discovering bright morning sunlight surprisingly streaming through the bedchamber window did little to improve her overall discomfort, and she swiftly closed her eyes against the sun’s smarting rays, but was prompted to open just one again a moment later when she clearly detected a strange rasping sound emanating from the general direction of the washstand in the corner of the room.
‘Oh, God!’ she groaned, when at last she had brought that nightmarish figure dragging a razor across its chin into focus, and her one and only hope that the events of the evening before had all been some fiendish bad dream had been wholly dashed.
The muttered exclamation carried, and Daniel paused in his shaving to stare through the mottled glass on the washstand at his companion’s pained expression. A few minutes before, whilst still soundly asleep, she had looked utterly adorable, with those auburn locks in enchanting disarray framing her lovely face. It was quite evident that her mood had not improved to any significant degree during the night hours, and he could not in truth say that he was in the least surprised. The winged-chair might be comfortable enough to sit in for an hour or two of an evening, but it hadn’t been fashioned to afford its occupant a good night’s repose.
He managed with precious little effort to suppress a smile, but was not nearly so successful in ignoring that imp of pure devilment which induced him to say, ‘Good morning, sweetheart. I trust you slept well?’
The darts of antipathy discharged from the depths of turquoise-coloured eyes very nearly sent him into whoops of laughter and in grave danger of taking a slice off his chin with the razor. Controlling himself with an effort, he glanced at her again through the mirror before concentrating on his own reflection. She was a termagant, right enough, stubborn and headstrong, and not every man’s idea of a comfortable companion. Yet, in truth, he could not be sorry that she did possess an abundance of spirit, for he very much feared that she would require every ounce of mettle she possessed if they were to come through this venture unscathed.
Deciding to keep these reflections to himself for the time being at least, he concentrated on preparing himself for the day ahead. When at last he had arranged his cravat neatly about his neck, he slipped on his jacket, and turned at last to face her.
‘There is sufficient hot water left in the pitcher to cater for your needs,’ he remarked, successfully bringing to an end what appeared to be her idle contemplation of the dead ashes in the hearth. ‘I’ll go downstairs and order breakfast. You’ll feel better for having some food inside you.’
His considerate gesture to leave her to undertake her toilette in private did little to alleviate Katherine’s disgruntled mood, and she darted yet another vitriolic glare in his direction. ‘My spirits are only ever likely to improve, Major Ross, when we part company … permanently.’
His lips twitched. ‘Believe me, m’dear, it would afford me the utmost pleasure to oblige you. Unfortunately I’m unable to do so, at least not for several days.’ He made to move across to the door, then checked and looked down at her again, a frown between his eyes. ‘Let me hear you say something in French. Say anything you like to me.’
How Katherine wished her command of the language was such that she could do precisely that by consigning him comprehensively to the devil! Unfortunately it was not and she had to be satisfied with telling him politely to withdraw immediately, to which his response was to utter a protracted groan and clap a hand over his eyes.
‘Dear God! Bath seminary French! Marie was right—you would never pass for a Frenchwoman in a million years!’ He removed his hand to bestow a faintly exasperated look upon her. ‘None the less, we must strive to maintain the pretence of a happily married French couple as best we can. Meet me downstairs when you’re ready. You cannot remain skulking in the bedchamber now that your husband is here to protect you. We’ll eat in the coffee-room. But kindly leave all the talking to me.’
‘Insufferable oaf!’ Katherine couldn’t resist muttering the instant he had departed.
‘I heard that,’ a deep voice informed her from the other side of the door.
Aches and pains instantly forgotten, Katherine flew out of the chair to lock the door. From what sounded suspiciously like a rumble of deep masculine laughter floating down the length of the passageway outside the room, she strongly suspected that his sharp ears had also detected the grating sound of the key turning in the lock. The confounded man had the acute senses of a cat! And could move as silently as a feline too! She would have sworn she had been awake throughout most of that wretchedly uncomfortable night, striving to combat the very natural desire to part company with the Major at the earliest opportunity, and yet in all honesty she could not say she had heard him return the key to the lock.
She turned her attention to her small trunk, which had sat in the corner of the room since her arrival at the inn. Nothing would have afforded her more satisfaction than to begin to re-pack it at this very moment with her belongings, and persuade Marie to accompany her at least as far as Calais. Her wretched conscience, however, simply wouldn’t permit her to attempt this course of action. She had pledged to do all she could to help Sir Giles in his endeavours to unmask that British traitor who had eluded him for several years. So she must strive, somehow, to overcome her quite understandable antipathy and collaborate with the Major. Their mission was the important thing, not her disinclination to work with someone whom she found an utter bane, and she must never lose sight of this fact, she reminded herself.
Consequently she swiftly made use of the pitcher’s remaining contents, and after dressing herself in one of her modest, high-necked day dresses and arranging her hair in a neat chignon, she made her way down the stairs to the coffee-room, where she discovered the Major seated at the table by the window, staring intently out at the street.
Not surprisingly he detected her light footfall almost at once, and СКАЧАТЬ