Read Online A Rake's Vow by Stephanie Laurens - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stephanie Laurens
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person to match the third horse, glanced up.
“Great heavens! Get down from there, you scallywag!”
Vane blinked and glanced up. Eyes glued to the horizon, the scallywag feigned deafness. Turning back, Vane heard Patience haughtily state: “It’s perfectly all right, sir. He’s looking at the views.”
“Views!” Penwick snorted. “The sides of that mound are steep and slippery—what if he should fall?” He looked at Vane. “I’m surprised, Cynster, that you permitted young Debbington to embark on a mad scheme guaranteed to overturn his sister’s sensiblities.”
Patience, suddenly no longer sure of Gerrard’s safety, looked at Vane.
His gaze on Penwick, Vane slowly raised his brows. Then he turned his head and met Patience’s potentially worried gaze. “I thought Gerrard was seventeen?”
She blinked. “He is.”
“Well, then.” Vane sat back, shoulders relaxing. “Seventeen is more than old enough to be responsible for his own safety. If he breaks a leg on his way down, it will be entirely his own fault.”
Patience stared at him—and wondered why her lips insisted on twitching upward. Vane’s eyes met hers; the calm, rocklike confidence she saw in the grey steadied her—and steadied her confidence in Gerrard.
The unsuccessfully muffled laugh that drifted over their heads forced her to straighten her lips and turn to Penwick. “I’m sure Gerrard is more than capable of managing.”
Penwick came close to scowling.
“Here’s Edmond.” Patience looked past Penwick as Edmond urged his mount up the rise. “I thought you were trapped by your muse?”
“Fought free of it,” Edmond informed her with a grin. He nodded at Penwick, then turned back to Patience. “Thought you might be glad of more company.”
While Edmond’s expression remained ingenuous, Patience was left with little doubt as to his thinking. She fought an urge to glance at Vane, to see if he, too, had picked up the implication; she was quite sure he would have—the man was certainly not slow.
That last was borne out by the purring murmur that slid past her right ear. “We’ve just been admiring the views.”
On the instant, before she’d even turned to him, that tingling sensation washed over her again, more intense, more wickedly evocative than before. Patience caught her breath and refused to meet his eyes. She allowed her gaze to rise only as far as his lips. They quirked, then eased into a teasing smile.
“And here’s Chadwick.”
Patience swallowed a groan. She turned and confirmed that Henry was, indeed, trotting up to join them. Her lips set; she’d only come on the ride because none of them had been interested in riding—and now here they all were, with even Penwick thrown in, riding to her rescue!
She didn’t need rescuing! Or protecting! She wasn’t in the slightest danger of succumbing to any “elegant gentleman’s” rakish lures. Not, she had to concede, that Vane had thrown any her way. He might be considering it, but his subtlety left the others looking like floundering puppies, yapping in their earnest haste.
“Such a fine day—couldn’t resist the thought of a brisk ride.” Henry beamed engagingly at her; the image of a panting puppy, tongue lolling in a hopeful canine grin, impinged forcefully on Patience’s mind.
“Now we’re all gathered,” Vane drawled, “perhaps we should ride on?”
“Indeed,” Patience agreed. Anything to cut short this farcical gathering.
“Gerrard, come down—your horse has forgotten why it’s out here.” Vane’s command, delivered in world-weary tones, elicited nothing more than a chuckle from Gerrard.
He stood, stretched, nodded to Patience, then disappeared around the other side of the mound. Within minutes, he reappeared at ground level, dusting his hands. He grinned at Vane, nodded to Edmond and Henry, and ignored Penwick. Accepting his reins, he flashed Patience a smile, then swung up to the saddle. “Shall we?”
A lift of one brow
“Great heavens! Get down from there, you scallywag!”
Vane blinked and glanced up. Eyes glued to the horizon, the scallywag feigned deafness. Turning back, Vane heard Patience haughtily state: “It’s perfectly all right, sir. He’s looking at the views.”
“Views!” Penwick snorted. “The sides of that mound are steep and slippery—what if he should fall?” He looked at Vane. “I’m surprised, Cynster, that you permitted young Debbington to embark on a mad scheme guaranteed to overturn his sister’s sensiblities.”
Patience, suddenly no longer sure of Gerrard’s safety, looked at Vane.
His gaze on Penwick, Vane slowly raised his brows. Then he turned his head and met Patience’s potentially worried gaze. “I thought Gerrard was seventeen?”
She blinked. “He is.”
“Well, then.” Vane sat back, shoulders relaxing. “Seventeen is more than old enough to be responsible for his own safety. If he breaks a leg on his way down, it will be entirely his own fault.”
Patience stared at him—and wondered why her lips insisted on twitching upward. Vane’s eyes met hers; the calm, rocklike confidence she saw in the grey steadied her—and steadied her confidence in Gerrard.
The unsuccessfully muffled laugh that drifted over their heads forced her to straighten her lips and turn to Penwick. “I’m sure Gerrard is more than capable of managing.”
Penwick came close to scowling.
“Here’s Edmond.” Patience looked past Penwick as Edmond urged his mount up the rise. “I thought you were trapped by your muse?”
“Fought free of it,” Edmond informed her with a grin. He nodded at Penwick, then turned back to Patience. “Thought you might be glad of more company.”
While Edmond’s expression remained ingenuous, Patience was left with little doubt as to his thinking. She fought an urge to glance at Vane, to see if he, too, had picked up the implication; she was quite sure he would have—the man was certainly not slow.
That last was borne out by the purring murmur that slid past her right ear. “We’ve just been admiring the views.”
On the instant, before she’d even turned to him, that tingling sensation washed over her again, more intense, more wickedly evocative than before. Patience caught her breath and refused to meet his eyes. She allowed her gaze to rise only as far as his lips. They quirked, then eased into a teasing smile.
“And here’s Chadwick.”
Patience swallowed a groan. She turned and confirmed that Henry was, indeed, trotting up to join them. Her lips set; she’d only come on the ride because none of them had been interested in riding—and now here they all were, with even Penwick thrown in, riding to her rescue!
She didn’t need rescuing! Or protecting! She wasn’t in the slightest danger of succumbing to any “elegant gentleman’s” rakish lures. Not, she had to concede, that Vane had thrown any her way. He might be considering it, but his subtlety left the others looking like floundering puppies, yapping in their earnest haste.
“Such a fine day—couldn’t resist the thought of a brisk ride.” Henry beamed engagingly at her; the image of a panting puppy, tongue lolling in a hopeful canine grin, impinged forcefully on Patience’s mind.
“Now we’re all gathered,” Vane drawled, “perhaps we should ride on?”
“Indeed,” Patience agreed. Anything to cut short this farcical gathering.
“Gerrard, come down—your horse has forgotten why it’s out here.” Vane’s command, delivered in world-weary tones, elicited nothing more than a chuckle from Gerrard.
He stood, stretched, nodded to Patience, then disappeared around the other side of the mound. Within minutes, he reappeared at ground level, dusting his hands. He grinned at Vane, nodded to Edmond and Henry, and ignored Penwick. Accepting his reins, he flashed Patience a smile, then swung up to the saddle. “Shall we?”
A lift of one brow
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