Read Online Lady Lissa's Liaison by Lindsay Randall - Free Book Online
Authors: Lindsay Randall
Ads: Link
around the bench, then made a hasty path for the door. She did not wait for Wylde to open the portal for her, but instead opened it herself and then hurried outside, into the morning's light.
Once there, Lissa paused alongside the profusion of wildflowers and took in several gulps of cool air.
She was amazed that she'd raced out of the river hut like a ninny, more so that she'd allowed him to take such liberties with her, and still more so that she'd responded to his kisses with such wanton passion. What must he think of her?
She heard Wylde inside, gathering up his angling equipment. He seemed in no particular hurry to join her.
It was just as well. Lissa needed these scant few seconds alone to gather up not only her dignity, but her resolve as well.
While she waited for him, Lissa repositioned the fly-tying necessities and her sketchbooks in one hand, then laid her journal atop the pile and hastily scribbled a list of to-dos on the back page.
Directly beneath what she'd written earlier that morning, she drew a rather unsteady line, then listed the following: Keep to course. No more lapses of judgment. None. She underscored the latter entry.
Wylde came out the door. Lissa flipped the journal shut just as he let the latch fall into place.
"You are ready?" he asked. It seemed that his protracted stay inside had been time enough to lessen the dark look of intent in his gaze and to also give some space to their combined lack of propriety.
Lissa felt a small sense of relief. "Very ready, sir," she answered.
"This way, then," was all he said, and he led the way back to the river, acting as though he'd not kissed Lissa so thoroughly as to make her see starlight and sunshine all wrapped into one....
* * *
As Lissa left the river hut with Lord Wylde, there was a stirring of intrigue and gossip brewing within all the hamlets of Derbyshire—one of Lissa's employees at the eye of it all. The raw-boned Mrs. Rachett, enjoying her moment in the sun, told one and all what she'd overheard about her lady and the Heartless Lord Wylde.
The old woman shared her second-hand knowledge with not only the milliner, the baker and even her godson who oversaw the stables, but also with the third cousin who could cook a duck to perfection at the busiest inn of Derbyshire, as well as her good friend who polished the pews for the rector at Ashbourne Church, with her great-nephew who often helped transport the Mails aboard the Royal Mail Coach, with her childhood friend's daughter who now baked confections at the far end of the smallest shire, and even with the newsboy from whom she sometimes purchased the print from London that happened a week or so ago in the Metropolis.
Before Mrs. Rachett left for Clivedon Manor just a scant three hours after arriving in the village, nearly everyone in every establishment and beyond had heard of Lady Lissa's scandalous liaison with the sixth Earl of Wylde, the very same who had made a notorious name for himself as a heartless beast of London Town.
The gossip grew to a fever pitch. By mid-afternoon, the lovely Lady Lissa was said to have become enamored of his lordship... and mayhap even besmirched by him.
The tale succeeded in whipping through all the hamlets of Derbyshire, skimming the very hills... until it seemed even the River Dove pulsed with a curious energy.
Who would have thought the exquisite, perfectly perfect Lady Lissa—the very lady who knew so many fine offers for her hand in marriage but had gainsaid them all—would willingly entangle herself in the dastardly web of a man know as the Heartless One?
Several prayers were whispered in Ashbourne Church for Lady Lissa. Even the rector knelt and offered a heartfelt prayer, for he knew what a fire storm all this gossip would create for his lovely parishioner. He'd married Lissa's parents, had christened the girl, and had been the one to stand over the graves of her fine parents. To hear that the young lady had chosen such a dangerous path
Once there, Lissa paused alongside the profusion of wildflowers and took in several gulps of cool air.
She was amazed that she'd raced out of the river hut like a ninny, more so that she'd allowed him to take such liberties with her, and still more so that she'd responded to his kisses with such wanton passion. What must he think of her?
She heard Wylde inside, gathering up his angling equipment. He seemed in no particular hurry to join her.
It was just as well. Lissa needed these scant few seconds alone to gather up not only her dignity, but her resolve as well.
While she waited for him, Lissa repositioned the fly-tying necessities and her sketchbooks in one hand, then laid her journal atop the pile and hastily scribbled a list of to-dos on the back page.
Directly beneath what she'd written earlier that morning, she drew a rather unsteady line, then listed the following: Keep to course. No more lapses of judgment. None. She underscored the latter entry.
Wylde came out the door. Lissa flipped the journal shut just as he let the latch fall into place.
"You are ready?" he asked. It seemed that his protracted stay inside had been time enough to lessen the dark look of intent in his gaze and to also give some space to their combined lack of propriety.
Lissa felt a small sense of relief. "Very ready, sir," she answered.
"This way, then," was all he said, and he led the way back to the river, acting as though he'd not kissed Lissa so thoroughly as to make her see starlight and sunshine all wrapped into one....
* * *
As Lissa left the river hut with Lord Wylde, there was a stirring of intrigue and gossip brewing within all the hamlets of Derbyshire—one of Lissa's employees at the eye of it all. The raw-boned Mrs. Rachett, enjoying her moment in the sun, told one and all what she'd overheard about her lady and the Heartless Lord Wylde.
The old woman shared her second-hand knowledge with not only the milliner, the baker and even her godson who oversaw the stables, but also with the third cousin who could cook a duck to perfection at the busiest inn of Derbyshire, as well as her good friend who polished the pews for the rector at Ashbourne Church, with her great-nephew who often helped transport the Mails aboard the Royal Mail Coach, with her childhood friend's daughter who now baked confections at the far end of the smallest shire, and even with the newsboy from whom she sometimes purchased the print from London that happened a week or so ago in the Metropolis.
Before Mrs. Rachett left for Clivedon Manor just a scant three hours after arriving in the village, nearly everyone in every establishment and beyond had heard of Lady Lissa's scandalous liaison with the sixth Earl of Wylde, the very same who had made a notorious name for himself as a heartless beast of London Town.
The gossip grew to a fever pitch. By mid-afternoon, the lovely Lady Lissa was said to have become enamored of his lordship... and mayhap even besmirched by him.
The tale succeeded in whipping through all the hamlets of Derbyshire, skimming the very hills... until it seemed even the River Dove pulsed with a curious energy.
Who would have thought the exquisite, perfectly perfect Lady Lissa—the very lady who knew so many fine offers for her hand in marriage but had gainsaid them all—would willingly entangle herself in the dastardly web of a man know as the Heartless One?
Several prayers were whispered in Ashbourne Church for Lady Lissa. Even the rector knelt and offered a heartfelt prayer, for he knew what a fire storm all this gossip would create for his lovely parishioner. He'd married Lissa's parents, had christened the girl, and had been the one to stand over the graves of her fine parents. To hear that the young lady had chosen such a dangerous path
Similar Books
