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Authors: The Pleasure of Her Kiss
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handsome man.
And those dark eyes! Oh, how they probed and alighted where they shouldn’t!
She hadn’t had time for many girlish fancies in her life. And this one was definitely without any kind of future.
Now if she could only remember what her husband looked like.
If she’d only gotten a good look at him.
Beyond his great, broad height.
And his midnight-dark beard.
His long hair whipped in the breeze off the bay.
His features hidden in the glare of the Alexandria sun.
And a wedding that took but a minute, before he was off down the gangway without a backward glance.
The blackguard.
A good crack in the shins with her best boot would be a fine greeting after all this time.
Should he ever decide to come home.
Chapter 6
“I t’s a fine, flapping winner of the first order, Lady Hawkesly!”
“A beauty, Mr. Gilmott.” Kate stepped back from the large, wriggling trout dangling from the end of Gilmott’s line. “But to be fair, the next few hours will tell.”
“Ha! Old Fitchett’s going to wish he hadn’t been so puffed up about winning! Imagine, him the flyfisherman and me the lowly duck hunter.” Gilmott chortled and waddled off across the forecourt to record his contender with Foggerty in the tent pavilion.
Kate stood just outside lodge door, surprised how smoothly the tournament had run this morning. The first round was winding down. Men were returning to the pavilion with their catches to compare techniques and tell their stories, resting only long enough to downa quick ale and grab a box lunch before they headed off for the afternoon’s fishing.
A perfect day. Warm and softly breezy. The occasional cloud to break the solid blue.
Still, Colonel Huddleswell would probably find something to needle her about. Some tree out of place, or his toast gone cold. She could only be grateful that he had yet to seek her out this morning. Something of a miracle.
“A message’s come to you from the hall, my lady.” Corey swabbed his shock of blond hair from his forehead and handed Kate the message.
“You look worn to the bone, Corey,” Kate said, brushing a spray of straw from his sleeve. “Have you eaten?”
“Just now, up at the hall.”
Then Corey had been filled to the brim with hotchpotch and oat bread, like the mob of others. “Poor lad.”
“It’s back to work, my lady. Them horses get hungry too.” Corey hurried off toward the stable.
Kate was about to stuff the message into the pocket of her breeches to read later, but a niggling sense of unease made her open it instead. She read Miss Rosemary’s blockish hand with a nagging dread.
I give ya a good morning, Lady Hawkesly, and word from Elden that he left for the wharf at Mereglass with the first of the wagons. The new lass is sitting up. Were you expecting a trunk?
A trunk?
And a message come here from London for his lordship.
From London? Dear God, then Hawkesly must be on his way home! Oh, but please, not yet.
This was only September! There was still so much to do. The tournament and the Katie Claire , the children and Father Sebastian’s soup kitchens! She wasn’t ready.
But perhaps she was jumping to the wrong conclusion. After all, this was merely a message to her husband from some unknown party in London. Which wasn’t absolute proof that his arrival was imminent.
It might just be a stray invitation to a ball from one of his social cronies. Or a note from a long-lost friend.
Blast the man and his arrogance! Believing that he could marry her, disappear for nearly two years, and then just show up to start their marriage when it suited him.
Well, it doesn’t suit me at all, Hawkesly, not right now.
Trying to decide on when she could wedge in an extra visit to Hawkesly Hall in the midst of her impossibly busy day, Kate tucked the note into her pocket, then hurried off to the recording pavilion and the crowd watching Magnus chalk in the weight of Gilmott’s trout.
“Eighteen pounds, three ounces, sir,” Foggerty
And those dark eyes! Oh, how they probed and alighted where they shouldn’t!
She hadn’t had time for many girlish fancies in her life. And this one was definitely without any kind of future.
Now if she could only remember what her husband looked like.
If she’d only gotten a good look at him.
Beyond his great, broad height.
And his midnight-dark beard.
His long hair whipped in the breeze off the bay.
His features hidden in the glare of the Alexandria sun.
And a wedding that took but a minute, before he was off down the gangway without a backward glance.
The blackguard.
A good crack in the shins with her best boot would be a fine greeting after all this time.
Should he ever decide to come home.
Chapter 6
“I t’s a fine, flapping winner of the first order, Lady Hawkesly!”
“A beauty, Mr. Gilmott.” Kate stepped back from the large, wriggling trout dangling from the end of Gilmott’s line. “But to be fair, the next few hours will tell.”
“Ha! Old Fitchett’s going to wish he hadn’t been so puffed up about winning! Imagine, him the flyfisherman and me the lowly duck hunter.” Gilmott chortled and waddled off across the forecourt to record his contender with Foggerty in the tent pavilion.
Kate stood just outside lodge door, surprised how smoothly the tournament had run this morning. The first round was winding down. Men were returning to the pavilion with their catches to compare techniques and tell their stories, resting only long enough to downa quick ale and grab a box lunch before they headed off for the afternoon’s fishing.
A perfect day. Warm and softly breezy. The occasional cloud to break the solid blue.
Still, Colonel Huddleswell would probably find something to needle her about. Some tree out of place, or his toast gone cold. She could only be grateful that he had yet to seek her out this morning. Something of a miracle.
“A message’s come to you from the hall, my lady.” Corey swabbed his shock of blond hair from his forehead and handed Kate the message.
“You look worn to the bone, Corey,” Kate said, brushing a spray of straw from his sleeve. “Have you eaten?”
“Just now, up at the hall.”
Then Corey had been filled to the brim with hotchpotch and oat bread, like the mob of others. “Poor lad.”
“It’s back to work, my lady. Them horses get hungry too.” Corey hurried off toward the stable.
Kate was about to stuff the message into the pocket of her breeches to read later, but a niggling sense of unease made her open it instead. She read Miss Rosemary’s blockish hand with a nagging dread.
I give ya a good morning, Lady Hawkesly, and word from Elden that he left for the wharf at Mereglass with the first of the wagons. The new lass is sitting up. Were you expecting a trunk?
A trunk?
And a message come here from London for his lordship.
From London? Dear God, then Hawkesly must be on his way home! Oh, but please, not yet.
This was only September! There was still so much to do. The tournament and the Katie Claire , the children and Father Sebastian’s soup kitchens! She wasn’t ready.
But perhaps she was jumping to the wrong conclusion. After all, this was merely a message to her husband from some unknown party in London. Which wasn’t absolute proof that his arrival was imminent.
It might just be a stray invitation to a ball from one of his social cronies. Or a note from a long-lost friend.
Blast the man and his arrogance! Believing that he could marry her, disappear for nearly two years, and then just show up to start their marriage when it suited him.
Well, it doesn’t suit me at all, Hawkesly, not right now.
Trying to decide on when she could wedge in an extra visit to Hawkesly Hall in the midst of her impossibly busy day, Kate tucked the note into her pocket, then hurried off to the recording pavilion and the crowd watching Magnus chalk in the weight of Gilmott’s trout.
“Eighteen pounds, three ounces, sir,” Foggerty
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