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Authors: Shirlee Busbee
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crowd
for its source. But his searching gaze revealed no one who appeared to be
unduly interested in him, and shrugging his shoulders, he was about to turn
back to the animal in the ring when he spied a fashionably dressed young woman
and gentleman making their way through the crowd towards him. At that same
instant, Barrymore said out of the corner of his mouth, "Don't look now my
friend, but here comes the Markham woman with Clive Pendleton in
attendance."
A wary smile on his face,
Jason watched their approach, wondering if it was coincidence or design that
brought them here.
Elizabeth Markham was a
handsome widow of some five-and-twenty years. Her figure was lush, and she was
displaying it admirably today in a high-waisted gown of lavender-sprigged
muslin. A chipped straw bonnet with an outrageously large green velvet ribbon
tied in a bow under one ear and kid gloves of soft green completed the ensemble
of this wealthy young woman of the aristocracy. Her father was the earl of
Mount, Lord Tremayne, a title he had inherited less than a year before upon the
death of his brother Robert. Jason had met Elizabeth and her parents when,
with Roxbury, he had recently attended a dinner held at their home in London.
Attracted to Elizabeth by the sparkling sherry brown eyes and hair that, while
not red, shone as richly brilliant as the silken coat of the chestnut filly in
the ring, he had enjoyed a polite flirtation with her and had made it a point
to seek out her company discreetly. She was a damned handsome woman, he decided,
and felt his senses stir, a flicker of desire racing through his veins as she
smiled up at him just now.
"How
nice to see you again, Jason! It seems we are forever meeting lately. Did you
enjoy your ride in Hyde Park the other morning? I was desolate that I could not
go with you, but as I said then, I was already committed to other plans."
Placing her gloved hand on his arm and glancing at him through spiky,
gold-tipped lashes she added flirtatiously, "I do hope that you will ask
me again.'*
Jason murmured a polite
rejoinder. She would have been extremely vexed if that had been his only
action, but at the same time he also shot her a lazy-lidded glance, and seeing
the sudden hint of more than just casual awareness in his eyes, she felt her
heart beat faster in her breast. Jason Savage was certainly a handsome animal! she decided with satisfaction. Olive's request that
she make herself agreeable to him wasn't going to be all that hard, she
thought, liking the way his coat of deep claret emphasized the darkness of his
skin and set off his broad shoulders. The manner in which the elegant fawn
pantaloons displayed his long, well-turned legs found pleasure with her as
well—it wasn't every man who had the body to wear them to advantage.
Just then she looked up and
caught him staring at her, his eyes lingering deliberately for a moment on her
bosom, as if knowing the excitement his very nearness aroused within her. And
she admitted to herself that even without Clive's prompting she would have been
attracted to him—he was that kind of man. Her own gaze was drawn irresistibly
to his full, mobile mouth, and she wished suddenly that they were alone and
that the muscled arm beneath her hand was crushing her to him and that his mouth
was claiming hers. It was a heady thought, and one she suspected Jason guessed
from the tantalizing smile he flashed her way. It said so much—and yet she was
left uncertain.
An impatient cough behind
her made her look over her shoulder at her escort and smiling prettily she
said, "Forgive me! How rude you must think me. May I introduce Clive
Pendleton to you. " Then clapping a hand to her
mouth, she laughed. "How silly of me! You met him
at my father's party, did you not?"
Jason acknowledged
Pendleton's bow with one of his own. He knew Pendleton had been a captain in
the army before his return to civilian life and was thought of as a family
relation of the Tremaynes. His godfather
for its source. But his searching gaze revealed no one who appeared to be
unduly interested in him, and shrugging his shoulders, he was about to turn
back to the animal in the ring when he spied a fashionably dressed young woman
and gentleman making their way through the crowd towards him. At that same
instant, Barrymore said out of the corner of his mouth, "Don't look now my
friend, but here comes the Markham woman with Clive Pendleton in
attendance."
A wary smile on his face,
Jason watched their approach, wondering if it was coincidence or design that
brought them here.
Elizabeth Markham was a
handsome widow of some five-and-twenty years. Her figure was lush, and she was
displaying it admirably today in a high-waisted gown of lavender-sprigged
muslin. A chipped straw bonnet with an outrageously large green velvet ribbon
tied in a bow under one ear and kid gloves of soft green completed the ensemble
of this wealthy young woman of the aristocracy. Her father was the earl of
Mount, Lord Tremayne, a title he had inherited less than a year before upon the
death of his brother Robert. Jason had met Elizabeth and her parents when,
with Roxbury, he had recently attended a dinner held at their home in London.
Attracted to Elizabeth by the sparkling sherry brown eyes and hair that, while
not red, shone as richly brilliant as the silken coat of the chestnut filly in
the ring, he had enjoyed a polite flirtation with her and had made it a point
to seek out her company discreetly. She was a damned handsome woman, he decided,
and felt his senses stir, a flicker of desire racing through his veins as she
smiled up at him just now.
"How
nice to see you again, Jason! It seems we are forever meeting lately. Did you
enjoy your ride in Hyde Park the other morning? I was desolate that I could not
go with you, but as I said then, I was already committed to other plans."
Placing her gloved hand on his arm and glancing at him through spiky,
gold-tipped lashes she added flirtatiously, "I do hope that you will ask
me again.'*
Jason murmured a polite
rejoinder. She would have been extremely vexed if that had been his only
action, but at the same time he also shot her a lazy-lidded glance, and seeing
the sudden hint of more than just casual awareness in his eyes, she felt her
heart beat faster in her breast. Jason Savage was certainly a handsome animal! she decided with satisfaction. Olive's request that
she make herself agreeable to him wasn't going to be all that hard, she
thought, liking the way his coat of deep claret emphasized the darkness of his
skin and set off his broad shoulders. The manner in which the elegant fawn
pantaloons displayed his long, well-turned legs found pleasure with her as
well—it wasn't every man who had the body to wear them to advantage.
Just then she looked up and
caught him staring at her, his eyes lingering deliberately for a moment on her
bosom, as if knowing the excitement his very nearness aroused within her. And
she admitted to herself that even without Clive's prompting she would have been
attracted to him—he was that kind of man. Her own gaze was drawn irresistibly
to his full, mobile mouth, and she wished suddenly that they were alone and
that the muscled arm beneath her hand was crushing her to him and that his mouth
was claiming hers. It was a heady thought, and one she suspected Jason guessed
from the tantalizing smile he flashed her way. It said so much—and yet she was
left uncertain.
An impatient cough behind
her made her look over her shoulder at her escort and smiling prettily she
said, "Forgive me! How rude you must think me. May I introduce Clive
Pendleton to you. " Then clapping a hand to her
mouth, she laughed. "How silly of me! You met him
at my father's party, did you not?"
Jason acknowledged
Pendleton's bow with one of his own. He knew Pendleton had been a captain in
the army before his return to civilian life and was thought of as a family
relation of the Tremaynes. His godfather
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