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Authors: Sabrina Jeffries
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to find her a titled husband to bear him his heir, now that his son is dead? Gaspars tone grew skeptical. That some other man will be plowing her field?
He steeled himself against the image of Lucy in another mans bed. Why should it? It has naught to do with me. I do not qualify as a husband for her.
Your father was
Nobody, compared to the marqués. Don Carlos would never agree to let her marry me. His aspirations are higher. He would cut her off firstand refuse to give meback Arboleda as he promised, too. If I relinquish my estate, it will be back to performing and endless travelno Arboleda, no nothing. I will not risk that just to bed some female.
He strode up the Rockhurst steps and headed for the brandy. This perplexing attraction to Lucy would pass if he kept a tight rein on it. He had weathered hard times before; he could do it again.
Even if it meant relinquishing his chance at the lovely Lucinda Seton.
ďťż
Chapter Five
Dear Charlotte,
I am surprised you tolerate anyone else being as opinionated as you. We both know you dont take well to having your ideas contradicted. And I would not pin your hopes on such a petition. The licensing magistrates are notoriously fickle about their choices, not to mention susceptible to bribery.
Your cousin,
Michael
E arly the next afternoon, Lucy herded several twelve-year-olds down the path through the oaks behind the school. With the weather still unseasonably warm, it was far too lovely to sit inside and draw.
Bearing their smocks, sketch pads, and charcoals, they quickly reached the old river landing, which had four spectacular views. Before them was the Thames with the countryside beyond, behind them lay the oak copse, to the left was the schools boathouse, and to the right was the cherry orchard.
That cursed cherry orchard. As the girls donned their smocks, she strolled over to gaze at it. Was Diego Montalvo out there now, or was he still abed?
The idea sent an unwelcome warmth flooding her belly. Would he wear a nightshirt? Or sleep in his drawers, like some men in the regiment?
She didnt want to know. Because the thought of him bare-chested, wearing only drawers, set her pulse pounding, and she was going to see him later today. How was she supposed to react after yesterdays kisses?
Her fingers curled automatically into her palm, and a groan escaped her. The first had been bad enough, but the second and third
No man had ever kissed her palm or her wrist, not even Peter. It had nearly turned her to ash right there. How strange that such kisses felt so much more intimate, so much more sinful, than one to the back of the hand.
Or was it just the way hed stared at her while doing it?
She shivered. His eyes, warm and coffee-brown, had met hers in a look that held more than mere admiration, something wild and wanton and very, very wicked.
That licentious look, those unwise kisses, had fed last nights dreams in the most shocking manner. Shed spent half the night imagining that dark gaze poring over her naked body, those possessive lips burning a path down her chin and upper chest and and breasts
Miss Seton? asked a pupil, jerking her from her thoughts.
She whirled to find the girls seated on the aging plank bench that circled the landing, with their charcoals and sketch pads at hand and their faces expectant.
She struggled to regain her composure. Ah, I see youre ready. Very good. This was her first drawing class. What in the dickens was she doing allowing thoughts of that wretched magician to intrude? If she werent careful, she would forget why she was here in the first place.
And why he had come to Richmond, too. That was probably why hed kissed her hand so scandalously: to make her forget about his devious plans.
With matter-of-fact efficiency, she donned her
He steeled himself against the image of Lucy in another mans bed. Why should it? It has naught to do with me. I do not qualify as a husband for her.
Your father was
Nobody, compared to the marqués. Don Carlos would never agree to let her marry me. His aspirations are higher. He would cut her off firstand refuse to give meback Arboleda as he promised, too. If I relinquish my estate, it will be back to performing and endless travelno Arboleda, no nothing. I will not risk that just to bed some female.
He strode up the Rockhurst steps and headed for the brandy. This perplexing attraction to Lucy would pass if he kept a tight rein on it. He had weathered hard times before; he could do it again.
Even if it meant relinquishing his chance at the lovely Lucinda Seton.
ďťż
Chapter Five
Dear Charlotte,
I am surprised you tolerate anyone else being as opinionated as you. We both know you dont take well to having your ideas contradicted. And I would not pin your hopes on such a petition. The licensing magistrates are notoriously fickle about their choices, not to mention susceptible to bribery.
Your cousin,
Michael
E arly the next afternoon, Lucy herded several twelve-year-olds down the path through the oaks behind the school. With the weather still unseasonably warm, it was far too lovely to sit inside and draw.
Bearing their smocks, sketch pads, and charcoals, they quickly reached the old river landing, which had four spectacular views. Before them was the Thames with the countryside beyond, behind them lay the oak copse, to the left was the schools boathouse, and to the right was the cherry orchard.
That cursed cherry orchard. As the girls donned their smocks, she strolled over to gaze at it. Was Diego Montalvo out there now, or was he still abed?
The idea sent an unwelcome warmth flooding her belly. Would he wear a nightshirt? Or sleep in his drawers, like some men in the regiment?
She didnt want to know. Because the thought of him bare-chested, wearing only drawers, set her pulse pounding, and she was going to see him later today. How was she supposed to react after yesterdays kisses?
Her fingers curled automatically into her palm, and a groan escaped her. The first had been bad enough, but the second and third
No man had ever kissed her palm or her wrist, not even Peter. It had nearly turned her to ash right there. How strange that such kisses felt so much more intimate, so much more sinful, than one to the back of the hand.
Or was it just the way hed stared at her while doing it?
She shivered. His eyes, warm and coffee-brown, had met hers in a look that held more than mere admiration, something wild and wanton and very, very wicked.
That licentious look, those unwise kisses, had fed last nights dreams in the most shocking manner. Shed spent half the night imagining that dark gaze poring over her naked body, those possessive lips burning a path down her chin and upper chest and and breasts
Miss Seton? asked a pupil, jerking her from her thoughts.
She whirled to find the girls seated on the aging plank bench that circled the landing, with their charcoals and sketch pads at hand and their faces expectant.
She struggled to regain her composure. Ah, I see youre ready. Very good. This was her first drawing class. What in the dickens was she doing allowing thoughts of that wretched magician to intrude? If she werent careful, she would forget why she was here in the first place.
And why he had come to Richmond, too. That was probably why hed kissed her hand so scandalously: to make her forget about his devious plans.
With matter-of-fact efficiency, she donned her
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