Read Online A Midsummer's Kiss (Farthingale Series Book 4) by Meara Platt - Free Book Online
Authors: Meara Platt
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would any woman who wished their children to have sweet dreams.”
Neither Eloise nor Lord Moray responded to that remark, but they did exchange a glance. Had something happened to his mother? Or was she not the caring sort? Had she mistreated him?
“Laurel, would you mind pouring me a glass of lemonade?” There was a sadness in his voice that didn’t just tug at her heart, it practically wrenched that beating organ from her bosom and slammed it to the floor repeatedly.
Unable to respond, she simply nodded.
She handed him the glass and turned to Eloise. “Would…” She paused to clear the lump suddenly caught in her throat. “Would you care for some?”
“No, dear. Just attend to Graelem. I’ll forage for myself.”
“Lord Moray, I—”
“Laurel, there’s no need for formality between us. Just call me Graelem. Save that stuffy nonsense for ton functions. And I’ll not have you referring to me as ‘my lord’ or ‘Lord Moray’ in our marriage either. You’re to be my wife. My equal.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“You’re gawking at me again, lass. Ah, it’s that ‘equals in the marriage’ I was just talking about. That’s the Scottish influence, I fear. We seem to think more highly of our women than the English do.”
Laurel snapped her mouth shut. “But you’re English, too.”
He nodded. “I was raised in both worlds, which makes me suitable for neither. I’m too Scottish for the English and too English for the Scots.”
Laurel clutched the book as though it were a shield designed to protect her heart. She had yet to sit beside him for an hour, and he was fast becoming someone she would consider a friend were circumstances other than they were. “I do understand that sense of not belonging. My father and his brothers raised themselves up from the working class to become the respected men they are today. They hate being called gentlemen because it was hard work and rigorous study that got them their success, not idleness or drinking at their clubs.”
Graelem regarded her in a manner that encouraged her to continue, so she did. “My sisters and I were raised in Coniston. That’s in the Lake District. We only came to London because my parents felt we ought to have a proper introduction into society.” She brushed back a stray lock of her hair and sighed. “No amount of tutoring will ever turn me into a biddable young lady. Nor my sisters, for that matter. Except perhaps Daisy. She’s naturally sweet and always behaves.” Almost always. “I’m sure she’ll find a sober judge to marry and raise the most obedient children ever created on this earth.”
He glanced over her head at his grandmother and grinned. “Well, if Daisy ever decides to live a little more adventurously, I have a rakish cousin she might like to meet. Gabriel, the scrappy eight-year-old I mentioned.”
She was trying to disentangle herself from Graelem Dayne and had no desire to entertain a marriage between her sister and Graelem’s cousin, especially if he was an adventurer and a rogue. “I think I’ll go downstairs and find some other reading material.”
“Stay, lass. No books for now. I’d rather learn more about you.”
Laurel ignored him and left the room. She didn’t care to know more about Graelem for fear that she might grow to like him. However, she was curious about the look he had given Eloise when she had mentioned his mother. She’d ask Eloise later.
* * *
Graelem eased against his pillows and let out an anguished groan the moment Laurel left his quarters. The impudent girl looked so damn delectable that it took all his control to keep from taking her into his arms and kissing her up and down her outrageously beautiful body. The innocent could drive any man to sin.
She wasn’t purposely trying to arouse him. Quite the opposite, she was doing her best to wriggle out of their betrothal. As far as he was concerned, she was failing miserably, for the more he saw of her, the more he liked
Neither Eloise nor Lord Moray responded to that remark, but they did exchange a glance. Had something happened to his mother? Or was she not the caring sort? Had she mistreated him?
“Laurel, would you mind pouring me a glass of lemonade?” There was a sadness in his voice that didn’t just tug at her heart, it practically wrenched that beating organ from her bosom and slammed it to the floor repeatedly.
Unable to respond, she simply nodded.
She handed him the glass and turned to Eloise. “Would…” She paused to clear the lump suddenly caught in her throat. “Would you care for some?”
“No, dear. Just attend to Graelem. I’ll forage for myself.”
“Lord Moray, I—”
“Laurel, there’s no need for formality between us. Just call me Graelem. Save that stuffy nonsense for ton functions. And I’ll not have you referring to me as ‘my lord’ or ‘Lord Moray’ in our marriage either. You’re to be my wife. My equal.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“You’re gawking at me again, lass. Ah, it’s that ‘equals in the marriage’ I was just talking about. That’s the Scottish influence, I fear. We seem to think more highly of our women than the English do.”
Laurel snapped her mouth shut. “But you’re English, too.”
He nodded. “I was raised in both worlds, which makes me suitable for neither. I’m too Scottish for the English and too English for the Scots.”
Laurel clutched the book as though it were a shield designed to protect her heart. She had yet to sit beside him for an hour, and he was fast becoming someone she would consider a friend were circumstances other than they were. “I do understand that sense of not belonging. My father and his brothers raised themselves up from the working class to become the respected men they are today. They hate being called gentlemen because it was hard work and rigorous study that got them their success, not idleness or drinking at their clubs.”
Graelem regarded her in a manner that encouraged her to continue, so she did. “My sisters and I were raised in Coniston. That’s in the Lake District. We only came to London because my parents felt we ought to have a proper introduction into society.” She brushed back a stray lock of her hair and sighed. “No amount of tutoring will ever turn me into a biddable young lady. Nor my sisters, for that matter. Except perhaps Daisy. She’s naturally sweet and always behaves.” Almost always. “I’m sure she’ll find a sober judge to marry and raise the most obedient children ever created on this earth.”
He glanced over her head at his grandmother and grinned. “Well, if Daisy ever decides to live a little more adventurously, I have a rakish cousin she might like to meet. Gabriel, the scrappy eight-year-old I mentioned.”
She was trying to disentangle herself from Graelem Dayne and had no desire to entertain a marriage between her sister and Graelem’s cousin, especially if he was an adventurer and a rogue. “I think I’ll go downstairs and find some other reading material.”
“Stay, lass. No books for now. I’d rather learn more about you.”
Laurel ignored him and left the room. She didn’t care to know more about Graelem for fear that she might grow to like him. However, she was curious about the look he had given Eloise when she had mentioned his mother. She’d ask Eloise later.
* * *
Graelem eased against his pillows and let out an anguished groan the moment Laurel left his quarters. The impudent girl looked so damn delectable that it took all his control to keep from taking her into his arms and kissing her up and down her outrageously beautiful body. The innocent could drive any man to sin.
She wasn’t purposely trying to arouse him. Quite the opposite, she was doing her best to wriggle out of their betrothal. As far as he was concerned, she was failing miserably, for the more he saw of her, the more he liked
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