Read Online A Midsummer's Kiss (Farthingale Series Book 4) by Meara Platt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Meara Platt
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her. She seemed genuinely unaware of her charms and used no artifice to enhance her appearance. Her pale blue gown was simply designed and its only adornment was a bit of white lace fabric at the squared-off collar.
The pale blue of her gown somehow intensified the blue-green swirls of her eyes, and the sun filtering in through the open window made her amber-gold hair glisten. Once again, her hair was bound in a bun that was casually pinned at the nape of her neck. He still ached to pull those pins out and watch her thick curls tumble down her back.
He glanced upward. Lord, isn’t a broken leg punishment enough? Must you also torture me by making her so beautiful? He could look his fill but never touch, not now that he’d made the girl that idiotic promise never to set a hand on her without her permission.
Had any able-bodied man ever made a stupider promise?
Eloise cleared her throat, reminding him that his grandmother was still in the room and intent on dutifully serving as Laurel’s chaperone. There would be no misbehaving, even if Laurel were willing, that was for damn sure. No matter. Laurel would never be willing. Why would she be? No doubt she already had a dozen gentlemen eager to marry her. “Dear boy,” Eloise began slowly, her lips pursed in thought—or was it disapproval? “She’s right, you know. You cannot force her to marry you.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“And I know for a fact that you do. She isn’t a pet dog. You can’t simply train her to sit and obey.” Her lips were still pursed, definitely in disapproval.
He laughed lightly. “In the brief time I’ve known her, I would say that Laurel obeys no man. She listens only to her heart, much to her father’s dismay. But I like that about her. She thinks for herself and she has a kind and generous nature.”
Eloise’s eyes rounded in obvious surprise. “How can you tell?”
“For one thing, she dotes on you, sincerely cares about you. Most young women would not concern themselves with an old dowager unless they were trying to get something out of her. Laurel’s quite the opposite. She adores you as though you were her own grandmother and looks to your comfort, not hers.”
He laughed lightly again as he continued. “And even though she detests me, she still can’t help but leap to my rescue whenever she sees that I’m in pain. As for the rest of it, I don’t know. There’s something about the girl. She’s open and honest, makes her easy to understand. Not that I understand a damn thing about women.”
He eased up against his pillows, wincing at the pain that reared its ugly head each time he moved. “As I said, despite wanting to shoot me for tricking her into a betrothal, there have been occasional moments when she’s wanted to put her arms around me to comfort me.”
“That was only yesterday while you were writhing on the street.”
He shrugged, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out gruffer than intended and with a raspy edge to it. “Her touch felt good, Grandmama.” So good.
“Oh, dear,” she said in a whisper. There was a tremor to her voice, as though his words had affected her. He hadn’t meant to distress her, but he knew that he had when her eyes began to glisten with tears. “You never knew a parent’s love. I should have taken up the slack after your mother died and your father…” Her voice trailed off, for his father—Eloise’s youngest son—had abandoned him.
They’d had this conversation before. He’d never blamed her for his situation, but she always insisted on taking the blame. He sighed. “You were always loving and kind to me.”
“Not kind enough. I should have done more. I should have asked your uncle,” she said, referring to her eldest son, the Earl of Trent, “to take you in. But we never realized how unhappy you were growing up with your mother’s family. At the time we thought it made perfect sense for you to live with them since you were to inherit the
The pale blue of her gown somehow intensified the blue-green swirls of her eyes, and the sun filtering in through the open window made her amber-gold hair glisten. Once again, her hair was bound in a bun that was casually pinned at the nape of her neck. He still ached to pull those pins out and watch her thick curls tumble down her back.
He glanced upward. Lord, isn’t a broken leg punishment enough? Must you also torture me by making her so beautiful? He could look his fill but never touch, not now that he’d made the girl that idiotic promise never to set a hand on her without her permission.
Had any able-bodied man ever made a stupider promise?
Eloise cleared her throat, reminding him that his grandmother was still in the room and intent on dutifully serving as Laurel’s chaperone. There would be no misbehaving, even if Laurel were willing, that was for damn sure. No matter. Laurel would never be willing. Why would she be? No doubt she already had a dozen gentlemen eager to marry her. “Dear boy,” Eloise began slowly, her lips pursed in thought—or was it disapproval? “She’s right, you know. You cannot force her to marry you.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“And I know for a fact that you do. She isn’t a pet dog. You can’t simply train her to sit and obey.” Her lips were still pursed, definitely in disapproval.
He laughed lightly. “In the brief time I’ve known her, I would say that Laurel obeys no man. She listens only to her heart, much to her father’s dismay. But I like that about her. She thinks for herself and she has a kind and generous nature.”
Eloise’s eyes rounded in obvious surprise. “How can you tell?”
“For one thing, she dotes on you, sincerely cares about you. Most young women would not concern themselves with an old dowager unless they were trying to get something out of her. Laurel’s quite the opposite. She adores you as though you were her own grandmother and looks to your comfort, not hers.”
He laughed lightly again as he continued. “And even though she detests me, she still can’t help but leap to my rescue whenever she sees that I’m in pain. As for the rest of it, I don’t know. There’s something about the girl. She’s open and honest, makes her easy to understand. Not that I understand a damn thing about women.”
He eased up against his pillows, wincing at the pain that reared its ugly head each time he moved. “As I said, despite wanting to shoot me for tricking her into a betrothal, there have been occasional moments when she’s wanted to put her arms around me to comfort me.”
“That was only yesterday while you were writhing on the street.”
He shrugged, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out gruffer than intended and with a raspy edge to it. “Her touch felt good, Grandmama.” So good.
“Oh, dear,” she said in a whisper. There was a tremor to her voice, as though his words had affected her. He hadn’t meant to distress her, but he knew that he had when her eyes began to glisten with tears. “You never knew a parent’s love. I should have taken up the slack after your mother died and your father…” Her voice trailed off, for his father—Eloise’s youngest son—had abandoned him.
They’d had this conversation before. He’d never blamed her for his situation, but she always insisted on taking the blame. He sighed. “You were always loving and kind to me.”
“Not kind enough. I should have done more. I should have asked your uncle,” she said, referring to her eldest son, the Earl of Trent, “to take you in. But we never realized how unhappy you were growing up with your mother’s family. At the time we thought it made perfect sense for you to live with them since you were to inherit the
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