A Ravishing Redhead

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Authors: Jillian Eaton
Tags: Romance, Historical, Regency, Historical Romance, Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages)
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Heathridge and now she wanted nothing more than to go back. Raising her cup to her lips she attempted to hide her smile. Unfortunately, Josephine was not easily fooled.
    Fixing her with a piercing stare, the blond haired beauty said, “ You’re going to remain in London, aren’t you Margaret? The Season is less than two months away! Not worth going back to the country only to turn round again, if you ask me.”
    “I am sorry,” she said apologetically. “But Henry and I have decided to return to Heathridge at the end of the week.”
    Uttering a long, dramatic sigh Josephine flopped back on the loveseat and threw her arms wide. “You are all deserting me,” she complained.
    “I will be here for the Season,” said Grace, looking only slightly put out that she had been forgotten. “Although I imagine most of my time will be spent with Stephen. He does so love taking carriage rides through the park and last week we went on a picnic – with Mother, of course – in the sweetest little town not far outside the city. And the week before that –”
    “Please,” Josephine interjected dryly, “spare me the details of your perfect courtship. If I have told you once, Grace, I have told you a thousand times: Lord Melbourne is not a suitable match for you. He is opinionated, arrogant, hard headed, and just… just… Well, if you must know, he is simply too old for you!”
    “Oh dear,” Margaret murmured.
    Grace’s blue eyes widened. “ What did you say?” she breathed.
    “I said your intended is opinionated, arrogant, hard – ”
    “Well at least he loves me!” Grace cried. The second the words were out of her mouth her cheeks went pale and she was instantly contrite. “Josie, I am so sorry. I did not mean to imply that – ”
    “That my husband does not love me?” Josephine finished. Smiling tightly, she got to her feet as well and began to retie her hat. “Not to worry, dear. I don’t love him either. Margaret, I am afraid I am going to have to take my leave now. I suddenly find I am not feeling well.”
    Looking back and forth between Grace, who looked on the verge of tears, and Josephine, who looked murderous, Margaret decided that tea was very much at an end. “Not to worry,” she said with forced brightness. “As I said, I will be in London until the end of the week. That gives us five more days to catch up.”
    Josephine nodded, feigned a smile, and marched out without looking back. Distraught, Grace turned to Margaret.
    “Do you think she hates me?” she asked miserably.
    “Of course not,” Margaret soothed. “She is merely upset. You know how she gets. By tomorrow she will have forgotten this even happened.”
    “Really?” Grace sniffed.
    “Really,” said Margaret. “Now I hate to rush you along, but I am expecting Henry to return any moment and…” she trailed off, not quite sure how to finish that particular sentence.
    “And you want to be alone,” said Grace. “I quite understand. I wish I could be alone with Stephen, but Mother is always there.”
    “Yes, well, soon enough I suppose.”
    “Soon enough,” Grace agreed before she said, after a hesitant pause, “I do love him, you know, even if he isn’t perfect.”
    A smile tugged at the corners of Margaret’s mouth as she rose to see her friend out. “None of them are, dear.”
    “But you are happy with Henry now?”
    “Over the moon,” she confirmed.
    The two women embraced, kissed each other’s cheeks, and parted ways after promising to meet tomorrow afternoon for lunch.       
     
    Later that day…
     
    Margaret rolled over onto her stomach. Trailing her fingertips across Henry’s chest, she began to circle one nipple, watching in fascination as the rosy skin puckered and hardened. She could tell by the unnatural flatness of his stomach that he was holding his breath, and with a low chuckle she flung herself backwards to stare up at the ceiling. Her unbound hair cascaded down her bare shoulders in waves and

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