Read Online June Calvin by The Jilting of Baron Pelham - Free Book Online Page B

horses?”
    Her diversionary gambit seemed to work. With the enthusiasm of the true horseman, he informed her, “Believe it or not, they were both bred on my father’s stud in Lancashire. They are about a year apart in age and from the same sire.”
    “And the entirely black curricle—all very impressive.”
    “And now the ensemble is complete, with a black-haired beauty by my side.” He arched a brow at her, the vivid, almost piercing ice blue eyes reminding her somehow of a bird of prey.
    “Are they fast, Mr. Curzon? Have you raced them?”
    “Do you find my gallantries unpleasant, Davida?” His free hand reached over to cover hers, which were tightly clenched in her lap.
    “Oh, no! I suppose I just haven’t yet quite learned how to flirt properly.” She opened her eyes wide, trying to look as naive as possible.
    “Nonsense. You are a born flirt. What is throwing you is that you know I am serious, is that not so?” The intentness of his look disconcerted her.
    At that moment Davida noticed that they were not on the right road to Hyde Park. “Where are we going, please?” She tried to control the nervous tremor in her voice.
    “Don’t be alarmed.” He released her hand. “I am just going to drive in Green Park. It will not be as crowded at this hour, and we can be more private. Does that distress you?” There was genuine concern in his voice and doubt in his eyes. “You don’t suspect me of having dishonorable intentions toward you, do you, Davida?”
    “Green Park will be quite satisfactory, Mr. Curzon.” She chose to ignore the question of his intentions, but Pelham’s warning was, she realized, coloring her behavior toward her handsome blond suitor.
    Davida was silent as Curzon concentrated on tooling his blacks through the busy London streets. She admired good driving and took pleasure in seeing the skill with which he handled the ribbons.
    When they turned into the park, he slowed the pace and turned to Davida, transferring the reins to his right hand. He slid his left arm around her and pulled her against him. “How I long to kiss you, Davida. It’s not possible here, but we can be a little closer, at least.”
    Astonished by his boldness, she looked hastily around to see if anyone was near enough to know what he had done. The feel of his strong, hard body beside hers startled her. It wasn’t an entirely disagreeable sensation, this proximity to a powerful male body, which surely intensified the impropriety of the experience! She tried to wiggle free, but his firm grasp easily prevented her.
    “Please, Mr. Curzon. I have done nothing to encourage such familiarity.”
    The broad brow wrinkled, the icy eyes narrowed. “I know you are a proper young lady, but I do not believe you are cold. You
are
aware that I am courting you in form and in earnest, are you not?”
    “This is beyond . . .” she began, but his voice cut across hers, harsh with emotion.
    “Now, Davida, tell me who my rival is? I thought at first Pelham, but he is entirely taken up with the self-righteous if delectable Lady Elspeth. I really can’t credit that you have a
tendre
for Threlbourne or Lanscombe, and if I am not very much mistaken, you actively dislike Sir Ralph Moreston.”
    “What makes you think . . . that is, I have a great many gentleman friends, but no one in particular. And . . . and I beg leave to tell you I did not give you permission to use my first name!” Davida was beginning to feel trapped, and her instinct was to fight.
    The curricle was barely moving. Curzon turned toward her, loomed over her, it almost seemed, his hawk’s eyes intent upon her. “My suit displeases you?”
    “You go too fast. I’ve only known you since Wednesday.”
    He studied her narrowly, and Davida met his gaze squarely, almost defiantly, her usually rosy cheeks flaming now in agitation.
    After what seemed to Davida an interminable time, Curzon’s features softened into a smile and he released his hold on her.