Read Online Andrews Brothers 02 - The Rescue by Felicia Rogers - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Felicia Rogers
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accident I tire easily.” She cocked a brow and he patted her hand, the simple touch caused a wave of tingles to rush along her arm and she lost track of what he was saying and the voices of the nearby couple interrupted.
The lady asked, “Have you heard of the recent rash of highwaymen? Why I was afraid to even attend the wedding this evening.”
“As was I, but father insisted. He is always about free food.”
The couple shared a laugh and the lady continued, “I’m serious. They say the highwayman is alone and covered in hair, almost as if he is wearing fur!” The lady held a trembling hand to her heart and her male companion grasped it and brought it to his lips.
“You shouldn’t fear, my lady. I shall protect you.”
The fanciful giggling irritated Farrah’s already frayed nerves. She straightened, and placed her gloved hands in her lap. She was determined to find out more about Andrew. “I’ve very curious about your story.”
He leaned forward and whispered, “I’m afraid it is rather boring and I’m much more interested in you. What has brought you to Lord Norhaven’s wedding celebration?”
“Same as you I expect.” The lie tasted bitter on her lips.
“I understand the Ravenlowes and Flannigans are neighbors and longtime family friends. Mother insists she attends every wedding.”
“I see.” Farrah gulped. A servant with a tray passed and she grabbed a plate filled with melon and nibbled on the edge.
“I feel for the young lass. Spirited, headstrong, and forced to live here. But maybe she will rise to the occasion.”
“Does it matter how she reacts?”
“What do you mean?”
Farrah eyed Andrew in the well-lit ballroom. As the son of the family that claims lifelong family friendship with the Flannigans, she shouldn’t have to explain anything to him. But as a stranger, things were different. She should just share the knowledge, what would happen if he’d heard it all before? Trying not to blurt it out with all the hatred she felt, she said, “Clovis Flannigan kills every woman with whom he mates. The bride has no chance of survival, so why worry about changing or rising to the occasion, as you put it.”
“Because regardless of the future you expect, fate has a way of changing things.”
Chapter Eight
Andrew sipped his sherry and studied the young woman. The halo of bright red hair had caught his attention as soon as she entered the ballroom. Drawn to her like a moth to a flame, he didn’t care about her previous decree to remain anonymous. He needed to know her and be known by her.
The wedding guests forced a different line of conversation. Immediately, he noticed her reticence in speaking of the Flannigan wedding and bride. Nature bade him question further. The rosy hue that covered her cheeks caused a warm sensation in his chest.
Mentioning how sometimes things don’t turn out as expected must have thrown the young lady off course, because she’d become sullen. Her expression transformed from one of contentment to devastation. He prepared to ask why she concerned herself so much with the fate of the future Flannigan bride, but bells chimed announcing the wedding hour. The crowd faced the platform as Clovis lifted his beefy arms.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve gathered here tonight to witness yet another of my special unions.” Spectators laughed behind fisted hands and Andrew bent to whisper to his secretive companion only to find her absent.
Clovis continued to pander to the guests, but Andrew was uninterested. He tiptoed and glanced over the dense crowd. Red hair billowed beyond a fleeing figure. Andrew discarded his glass on a passing table as he headed for the hallway. He searched left and right. Peach skirts disappeared around a corner and Andrew turned to follow.
“May I help you?” A broad shouldered liveried footman stepped before him.
Andrew sidestepped to try and edge around him but the footman leaned in a similar fashion, blocking his view and
The lady asked, “Have you heard of the recent rash of highwaymen? Why I was afraid to even attend the wedding this evening.”
“As was I, but father insisted. He is always about free food.”
The couple shared a laugh and the lady continued, “I’m serious. They say the highwayman is alone and covered in hair, almost as if he is wearing fur!” The lady held a trembling hand to her heart and her male companion grasped it and brought it to his lips.
“You shouldn’t fear, my lady. I shall protect you.”
The fanciful giggling irritated Farrah’s already frayed nerves. She straightened, and placed her gloved hands in her lap. She was determined to find out more about Andrew. “I’ve very curious about your story.”
He leaned forward and whispered, “I’m afraid it is rather boring and I’m much more interested in you. What has brought you to Lord Norhaven’s wedding celebration?”
“Same as you I expect.” The lie tasted bitter on her lips.
“I understand the Ravenlowes and Flannigans are neighbors and longtime family friends. Mother insists she attends every wedding.”
“I see.” Farrah gulped. A servant with a tray passed and she grabbed a plate filled with melon and nibbled on the edge.
“I feel for the young lass. Spirited, headstrong, and forced to live here. But maybe she will rise to the occasion.”
“Does it matter how she reacts?”
“What do you mean?”
Farrah eyed Andrew in the well-lit ballroom. As the son of the family that claims lifelong family friendship with the Flannigans, she shouldn’t have to explain anything to him. But as a stranger, things were different. She should just share the knowledge, what would happen if he’d heard it all before? Trying not to blurt it out with all the hatred she felt, she said, “Clovis Flannigan kills every woman with whom he mates. The bride has no chance of survival, so why worry about changing or rising to the occasion, as you put it.”
“Because regardless of the future you expect, fate has a way of changing things.”
Chapter Eight
Andrew sipped his sherry and studied the young woman. The halo of bright red hair had caught his attention as soon as she entered the ballroom. Drawn to her like a moth to a flame, he didn’t care about her previous decree to remain anonymous. He needed to know her and be known by her.
The wedding guests forced a different line of conversation. Immediately, he noticed her reticence in speaking of the Flannigan wedding and bride. Nature bade him question further. The rosy hue that covered her cheeks caused a warm sensation in his chest.
Mentioning how sometimes things don’t turn out as expected must have thrown the young lady off course, because she’d become sullen. Her expression transformed from one of contentment to devastation. He prepared to ask why she concerned herself so much with the fate of the future Flannigan bride, but bells chimed announcing the wedding hour. The crowd faced the platform as Clovis lifted his beefy arms.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve gathered here tonight to witness yet another of my special unions.” Spectators laughed behind fisted hands and Andrew bent to whisper to his secretive companion only to find her absent.
Clovis continued to pander to the guests, but Andrew was uninterested. He tiptoed and glanced over the dense crowd. Red hair billowed beyond a fleeing figure. Andrew discarded his glass on a passing table as he headed for the hallway. He searched left and right. Peach skirts disappeared around a corner and Andrew turned to follow.
“May I help you?” A broad shouldered liveried footman stepped before him.
Andrew sidestepped to try and edge around him but the footman leaned in a similar fashion, blocking his view and
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