Read Online Improper Advances by Margaret Evans Porter - Free Book Online Page A

breed before, and tried to tell her so. She assumed I wanted to own it.”
    “You do own it.”
    “It’s certainly decorative,” she declared, taking an optimistic view. “And my milk cow will be glad of the company.”
    “I’m glad of this chance to speak with you,” Dare told her. “I still haven’t fully accounted for those unkind remarks I made the other evening.”
    “Quite unnecessary; I understand perfectly. You assume that every female who crosses your path wants to be your wife.” He detected more than a trace of mockery in the musical voice.
    “It isn’t conceit that makes me suspicious, but experience,” he defended himself. “My wealth is a fact—and so is its influence upon others.”
    “You have my deepest sympathy. May I go now?”
    “No,” he barked. “I haven’t even begun. After I realized you weren’t a birthday toy my friends had provided for my amusement, I made another false judgment. I decided that you were a fortune hunter, probably in debt, intent upon luring me into marriage. I saw you not as a lovely woman—which you are—but as my worst nightmare.”
    “You mustn’t flatter me, Sir Darius. Whatever else you feel compelled to say, I don’t care to listen.”
    She turned to go.
    He placed himself in front of her. Grasping her arm, he declared in a heated voice, “You try my patience almost as much as that damned goose of yours.” The surrounding greenery was reflected in her eyes, and in the woodland gloom her face bloomed white as a lily. A foreign, inexpressible emotion held him in its toils, far more tightly than he clutched her.
    She regarded him fearlessly. “This is important to you.”
    “Immensely.” At long last, he’d communicated something to her besides lust and disdain. “May I continue?”
    She nodded.
    He marched her over to a low boundary wall and made her sit. He stepped away, taking time to collect his thoughts.
    “Grandfather Corlett married an English heiress, and lived near Matlock, the watering place at the heart of Derbyshire’s mining and mountain district. My father, enamored of his island heritage, chose a Manxwoman for his wife. I was born in Ramsey and educated at Rugby School in England. Between terms, I often stayed with my grandfather. At the time, he was building a country mansion on the grand scale, so I watched part of my future inheritance spring up before my very eyes. Later I attended Edinburgh University, where I studied geology and mineralogy. But when my father died, Grandfather insisted that I fully acquaint myself with my future responsibilities. I learned the business of mining—from the ground up, you might say. At social events in the neighborhood of Damerham, I was besieged by young ladies, all eager to claim the Corlett heir.”
    An image flashed in his mind—a pert and smiling face with a pair of laughing eyes.
    “One of them succeeded—Wilhelmina Bradfield, daughter of a bankrupt china manufacturer. Her skin resembled the finest porcelain. She had black corkscrew curls, and dimples.” Head bowed, Dare studied his clenched hands. “Flirtation led to courtship. She was receptive, and so was her family. But she didn’t agree to an engagement until my grandsire’s long life completed its course. I inherited his mines, his mansion, and all his money.”
    She broke the silence, saying, “And you decided Miss Bradfield was after your fortune.”
    “Not then. My attention was divided among a prosperous mining operation, my geological pursuits, and a growing stack of architectural renderings for the fine house I intended to build for my bride. Willa never complained about my preoccupations. When I was overseeing my lead mines or cataloging rock specimens or visiting my mother, she was free to dally with her sweetheart. Long before she set her cap for me, she had pledged herself to the manager of Mr. Bradfield’s china factory. When the business failed, she dutifully complied with her family’s wish that she marry