Read Online Beauty in Breeches by Helen Dickson - Free Book Online Page B

if this young hellion thought to make a fool of him and believed she had him cornered, then she didn’t know who she was dealing with. She would find out, but in the meantime he would play along with her game—for knowing how she held him in absolute contempt, that’s all it could be. However, he was intrigued, all his senses completely involved with her. There could be worse things than being married to this beautiful, feisty firecracker.
    â€˜Then what can I say except that I consider myself fortunate to find myself betrothed to the most beautiful young lady in Essex.’ Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips, and in so doing played the forfeit, as if young ladies proposed to gentlemen in this way every day of the week.
    After a good deal of laughter, disbelief and hesitant congratulations, Julius and Beatrice, accompanied by a thoroughly bemused George, rode back to Standish House.
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    Clattering into the stable yard, the two men swung from their saddles and Julius tossed the reins to George, who led both horses away. Beatrice turned in the saddle, but before she had a chance to dismount, Julius’s hands closed, strong and sure, about her waist. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a child, lowering her slowly until her feet touched the ground.
    Beatrice felt a blush tinge her cheeks—it was all she could do to meet his gaze fleetingly. It was the first time a man had touched her, had dared take such liberties.
    â€˜Thank you, my lord,’ she said tightly, ‘but the time has not yet come when I cannot get off a horse without assistance.’
    Julius looked down at her, his tone slightly acid. ‘The pleasure is all mine,’ he said in clipped tones. ‘Would you deprive me of that?’ He stepped away from her. ‘We need to talk.’
    â€˜Yes, we do.’
    â€˜Now would be as good a time as any.’ His eyesheld hers. His face was a taut mask of controlled anger. For an instant he thought she would argue—he was relieved when she tightened her lips and inclined her head in apparent acquiescence. ‘Come, let’s take a walk.’
    With studied calm Beatrice allowed him to place his hand on her elbow and escort her out of the stable yard and into a quiet part of the gardens. There was a controlled alertness in his manner, like that of a large cat, its strength ready to explode, but for the present docile. She was reminded of a large black panther she had seen on her visit to the zoo at the Tower of London with Astrid. In repose the panther’s sinews had flexed and stretched in a fantastic rhythm of life that mesmerised. Julius Chadwick was slim, yet sturdy, and moved with almost sensuous grace. There was a sureness in his stride as if he carefully planned where to place each foot. At the moment he appeared relaxed, but Beatrice knew that he was aware of her and everything around him.
    His grip felt strong and steely. A host of unfamiliar sensations passed along her nerves and her heart turned over distractingly. Such unexpected susceptibility was not, to her mind, a helpful development. She had never before been so afflicted—she hoped the effect would fade quickly. To her chagrin it did not go away when he removed his hand.
    â€˜I don’t think we’ll be disturbed here.’
    His tone, clipped and dry, had Beatrice shifting her gaze to his face. He was a towering masculine presence in this quiet corner of the garden. ‘What is it you wantto say?’ she asked, beginning to feel the first pangs of discomfort with the dark way he was regarding her, his gaze narrowed and assessing.
    The corner of his mouth twisted wryly. ‘Don’t look so worried. I don’t intend to harm you.’ Looking down into her wide eyes, Julius saw speculation leap in their depths only to be replaced by wariness. His gaze locked on hers. ‘I believe it’s time for a little plain speaking.’
    Beatrice stiffened. ‘On