Read Online Lover Be Mine: A Legendary Lovers Novel by Nicole Jordan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nicole Jordan
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aunt’s
carriage waited.
Opening the barouche door, he handed her inside, then startled her with his next words.
“I will see you tomorrow, Miss Fortin, if not before.”
Sophie sent him an exasperated look. “Did you not hear a word I said?”
“Oh, I heard every word. But I don’t want your being sold into matrimony on my conscience
when I could have stopped it.” He grinned in that slow, deliberately maddening way
of his. “And since there is little time left, I will simply have to go around your
father.”
“What do you mean, go around him? What do you intend to do?”
In response, he only smiled enigmatically and stepped back, then shut the carriage
door and rapped on the panel, giving her aunt’s coachman the office to start.
His refusal to answer her worried Sophie greatly. As the barouche rolled away, she
turned in her seat to gaze back at Lord Jack through the small rear window, but he
had disappeared from sight.
She caught her lower lip with her teeth, wondering if she ought to return and try
to reason with him further. But she knew it would be futile.
And one thing she also knew: She hadn’t heard the last of Lord Jack Wilde. That was
for certain.
He was losing
the battle against desire, Jack acknowledged as he watched the barouche roll away.
Before this moment, he’d never spent time contemplating the power in a kiss, but his
second delectable encounter with Sophie Fortin had settled the issue for him: There
truly was something special between them.
The riveting sweetness of her mouth had only made him want her more. And given the
looming house party, he felt the urgency to act.
His immediate priority, Jack decided, was to cultivate an ally in Sophie’s great-aunt,
Mrs. Eunice Pennant. That goal brought him once again to the Pennant residence, late
the next morning. Since it was Sunday, the street was quiet, as was the interior of
the house when he was admitted.
In hushed tones, the butler promised to inquire if Mrs. Pennant was receiving and
showed Jack to a parlor to wait.
He was left cooling his heels for nearly a quarter of an hour before the servant returned
and escorted himupstairs to an elegant sitting room. Jack found the elderly lady seated in a plush
velvet chair. Her silver hair and stooped posture made her appear fragile with age,
but her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity and interest as he sketched her a polite
bow.
“Forgive me for not descending the stairs to receive you, Lord Jack,” Mrs. Pennant
said in greeting, “but my old bones strongly object to movement at this ungodly time
of day. What brings you here? I confess astonishment that you would show your face
here, given the rift between the Wildes and the Fortins.”
“I came to retrieve my cutlass, ma’am. I mistakenly left it in your library the night
of your masquerade.”
She stared at him for upward of ten seconds before letting out a cackle of laughter,
which had the unfortunate effect of inducing a coughing fit.
Quickly going down on one knee beside her, Jack snatched up an embroidered handkerchief
lying on a side table and pressed it into her hand.
Mrs. Pennant wheezed into the cloth for another few moments, then dabbed her damp
eyes as she observed him with obvious amusement. “Leave it to you to do the unexpected,
my lord. No, you needn’t worry. I am not in danger of expiring.” She waved him to
a chair. “You have some nerve, returning to the scene of the crime, as it were.”
Jack grinned, knowing he had negotiated his first major hurdle. Instead of throwing
him out on his ear, Sophie’s great-aunt seemed eager to learn why he had called. But
winning over this crotchety lady would not be easy.
“I have come to make you a proposition, Mrs. Pennant. I understand you are planning
a house party inBerkshire this week in order to sweeten up the Duke of Dunmore.”
Her gaze narrowed. “You are a frank one, aren’t
carriage waited.
Opening the barouche door, he handed her inside, then startled her with his next words.
“I will see you tomorrow, Miss Fortin, if not before.”
Sophie sent him an exasperated look. “Did you not hear a word I said?”
“Oh, I heard every word. But I don’t want your being sold into matrimony on my conscience
when I could have stopped it.” He grinned in that slow, deliberately maddening way
of his. “And since there is little time left, I will simply have to go around your
father.”
“What do you mean, go around him? What do you intend to do?”
In response, he only smiled enigmatically and stepped back, then shut the carriage
door and rapped on the panel, giving her aunt’s coachman the office to start.
His refusal to answer her worried Sophie greatly. As the barouche rolled away, she
turned in her seat to gaze back at Lord Jack through the small rear window, but he
had disappeared from sight.
She caught her lower lip with her teeth, wondering if she ought to return and try
to reason with him further. But she knew it would be futile.
And one thing she also knew: She hadn’t heard the last of Lord Jack Wilde. That was
for certain.
He was losing
the battle against desire, Jack acknowledged as he watched the barouche roll away.
Before this moment, he’d never spent time contemplating the power in a kiss, but his
second delectable encounter with Sophie Fortin had settled the issue for him: There
truly was something special between them.
The riveting sweetness of her mouth had only made him want her more. And given the
looming house party, he felt the urgency to act.
His immediate priority, Jack decided, was to cultivate an ally in Sophie’s great-aunt,
Mrs. Eunice Pennant. That goal brought him once again to the Pennant residence, late
the next morning. Since it was Sunday, the street was quiet, as was the interior of
the house when he was admitted.
In hushed tones, the butler promised to inquire if Mrs. Pennant was receiving and
showed Jack to a parlor to wait.
He was left cooling his heels for nearly a quarter of an hour before the servant returned
and escorted himupstairs to an elegant sitting room. Jack found the elderly lady seated in a plush
velvet chair. Her silver hair and stooped posture made her appear fragile with age,
but her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity and interest as he sketched her a polite
bow.
“Forgive me for not descending the stairs to receive you, Lord Jack,” Mrs. Pennant
said in greeting, “but my old bones strongly object to movement at this ungodly time
of day. What brings you here? I confess astonishment that you would show your face
here, given the rift between the Wildes and the Fortins.”
“I came to retrieve my cutlass, ma’am. I mistakenly left it in your library the night
of your masquerade.”
She stared at him for upward of ten seconds before letting out a cackle of laughter,
which had the unfortunate effect of inducing a coughing fit.
Quickly going down on one knee beside her, Jack snatched up an embroidered handkerchief
lying on a side table and pressed it into her hand.
Mrs. Pennant wheezed into the cloth for another few moments, then dabbed her damp
eyes as she observed him with obvious amusement. “Leave it to you to do the unexpected,
my lord. No, you needn’t worry. I am not in danger of expiring.” She waved him to
a chair. “You have some nerve, returning to the scene of the crime, as it were.”
Jack grinned, knowing he had negotiated his first major hurdle. Instead of throwing
him out on his ear, Sophie’s great-aunt seemed eager to learn why he had called. But
winning over this crotchety lady would not be easy.
“I have come to make you a proposition, Mrs. Pennant. I understand you are planning
a house party inBerkshire this week in order to sweeten up the Duke of Dunmore.”
Her gaze narrowed. “You are a frank one, aren’t
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