Read Online A Dangerous Damsel (The Countess Scandals) by Kimberly Bell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kimberly Bell
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thing—throughout their talk he hadn’t once imagined Deidre naked in the river. Knowing the next few hours would be nigh unbearable without some sort of distraction, he set himself to thinking of something nice.
Chapter 7
The sun was high overhead when Deidre reopened her eyes. She did not immediately remember why she was in the middle of a forest instead of sleeping on her saggy straw mattress. As the events of the past few days came back to her, calm came with them. They were out of danger and away from Alastair. She owed that largely to Ewan. Ewan. More recent memories came back. She turned her head, searching for him. He was gone.
He’d said his help had come without a price. She supposed this would be an excellent test of the truth of that statement. He had been kinder to her than anyone she’d ever known, and she had tempted and tortured him in a fit of wounded pride. Even now when he should by all rights be furious with her, his plaid was tucked neatly around her and there was a primrose resting a few inches from where his chest had been.
She’d left him miserable and wanting and he’d left her a flower.
Mixed in under all the guilt at the way she’d treated him, a tiny part of Deidre was—what was she? Had she ever felt this way? Had anyone ever given her a token without also trying to get under her skirts? She picked it up, gently touching the petals. It had no purpose, except to be pleasing. Was it a message? Was he suggesting she should be more pleasing? No, not with the plaid wrapped around her with such care. Its purpose was to please her. It did.
Pulling on her clothes, she went in search of the man who’d left it for her. He couldn’t be far—wherever he was, he was only wearing his shirt. She hiked up to where they’d made camp and found him packing up the horses to leave. When he saw her, he smiled.
She handed him his plaid. “You might need this.”
“Oh, aye. I’ve scandalized yer brother and my fair share of critters already.” He knelt, setting the pleats that would turn it back into a garment.
She wasn’t sure how to say what she was feeling—wasn’t certain she wanted to—but she couldn’t just leave it at that, either.
“The flower is lovely,” she said, twirling the stem slowly between her fingers.
“May I?” He held out his hand for it.
She couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he held out his hand, the stem was interlocked with itself into a ring.
“So ye can wear it, if ye want.”
“If you want,” said so innocuously. What she wanted was becoming murkier by the second. It sat in the center of his palm, waiting for her to decide.
“Wear it, Dee.” Tristan’s voice next to her ear startled her. “Purple suits you.”
She took the ring from Ewan, trying not to think about the way her heartbeat fluttered, or the way her pulse jumped at the touch of their hands. She hurried to slide it onto her finger. “We should probably be off.”
Once they were mounted and Ewan was out of earshot, it didn’t take long for Tristan to start in on her.
“That’s moving along quickly. He’s giving you rings already?”
Deidre ignored him. If she didn’t encourage him, maybe he’d let it go.
“Jewels would have been better, but admittedly, he’s making do with what he’s got out here.”
She glared daggers into the back of his head.
“Kind of sweet, isn’t it? That’s probably worth a tumble all on its own.” He went on, oblivious. “If he just happens to fancy it enough to make you his mistress, well then—”
She cuffed his ear.
“Ow. Christ, Dee. What the hell is wrong with you lately?”
“What the hell is wrong with me?” She changed to their mother’s language as she jabbed him between the shoulder blades. “What the hell is wrong with you? What business is it of yours whether—”
“You’ve made it my business, haven’t you? You dragged me out here for God knows what reason. I was perfectly happy where I was.”
“Perfectly
Chapter 7
The sun was high overhead when Deidre reopened her eyes. She did not immediately remember why she was in the middle of a forest instead of sleeping on her saggy straw mattress. As the events of the past few days came back to her, calm came with them. They were out of danger and away from Alastair. She owed that largely to Ewan. Ewan. More recent memories came back. She turned her head, searching for him. He was gone.
He’d said his help had come without a price. She supposed this would be an excellent test of the truth of that statement. He had been kinder to her than anyone she’d ever known, and she had tempted and tortured him in a fit of wounded pride. Even now when he should by all rights be furious with her, his plaid was tucked neatly around her and there was a primrose resting a few inches from where his chest had been.
She’d left him miserable and wanting and he’d left her a flower.
Mixed in under all the guilt at the way she’d treated him, a tiny part of Deidre was—what was she? Had she ever felt this way? Had anyone ever given her a token without also trying to get under her skirts? She picked it up, gently touching the petals. It had no purpose, except to be pleasing. Was it a message? Was he suggesting she should be more pleasing? No, not with the plaid wrapped around her with such care. Its purpose was to please her. It did.
Pulling on her clothes, she went in search of the man who’d left it for her. He couldn’t be far—wherever he was, he was only wearing his shirt. She hiked up to where they’d made camp and found him packing up the horses to leave. When he saw her, he smiled.
She handed him his plaid. “You might need this.”
“Oh, aye. I’ve scandalized yer brother and my fair share of critters already.” He knelt, setting the pleats that would turn it back into a garment.
She wasn’t sure how to say what she was feeling—wasn’t certain she wanted to—but she couldn’t just leave it at that, either.
“The flower is lovely,” she said, twirling the stem slowly between her fingers.
“May I?” He held out his hand for it.
She couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he held out his hand, the stem was interlocked with itself into a ring.
“So ye can wear it, if ye want.”
“If you want,” said so innocuously. What she wanted was becoming murkier by the second. It sat in the center of his palm, waiting for her to decide.
“Wear it, Dee.” Tristan’s voice next to her ear startled her. “Purple suits you.”
She took the ring from Ewan, trying not to think about the way her heartbeat fluttered, or the way her pulse jumped at the touch of their hands. She hurried to slide it onto her finger. “We should probably be off.”
Once they were mounted and Ewan was out of earshot, it didn’t take long for Tristan to start in on her.
“That’s moving along quickly. He’s giving you rings already?”
Deidre ignored him. If she didn’t encourage him, maybe he’d let it go.
“Jewels would have been better, but admittedly, he’s making do with what he’s got out here.”
She glared daggers into the back of his head.
“Kind of sweet, isn’t it? That’s probably worth a tumble all on its own.” He went on, oblivious. “If he just happens to fancy it enough to make you his mistress, well then—”
She cuffed his ear.
“Ow. Christ, Dee. What the hell is wrong with you lately?”
“What the hell is wrong with me?” She changed to their mother’s language as she jabbed him between the shoulder blades. “What the hell is wrong with you? What business is it of yours whether—”
“You’ve made it my business, haven’t you? You dragged me out here for God knows what reason. I was perfectly happy where I was.”
“Perfectly
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