Read Online My Naughty Minette by Annabel Joseph - Free Book Online Page B

you, the couples in those books have problems all the time, but over the course of the book, through adventures and misadventures, they come to love one another, you see?” He stared at her as if she was daft. She threw up her hands. “My Lord August, how are we to have our adventures and misadventures and fall in love if you’re miles away in London and I’m back here in Oxfordshire?”
    He gave a great sigh. “Come here, if you please. I would like to show you something.”
    There, his pen was down. Now he would listen to her. She went to stand beside him at the desk as he reached inside one of the drawers and drew out an oblong white box tied with ribbon. He opened the lid to show her an engraved wooden plaque of some sort resting on a bed of satin.
    “What is it?” she asked, picking it up.
    “Your brother gave it to me today as a wedding present.”
    She tilted her head to inspect the word inscribed into one side. “WAR? Whatever does it mean? What an inappropriate thing to inscribe on a wedding day plaque.”
    “They’re your new married initials.
W.A.R.
Wilhelmina Anne Randolph, and it’s not a plaque, it’s a paddle.”
    “A paddle?” She took a step back.
    August nodded at her, tight lipped. “A paddle with your initials on it.”
    Minette gawped down at the thick, polished thing. Yes, it was long and rectangular, with a perfectly obvious handle she hadn’t noticed before. “Is it...is it a paddle for cooking? For taking tiny loaves of bread out of the oven?”
    “It’s not a paddle for tiny loaves of bread.” He took it from her and turned it over in his hand. “I think you know what it’s for.”
    Minette narrowed her eyes. “What a despicable present for a brother to give on his sister’s wedding day.”
    “I believe he meant it as a lark. Nonetheless, it’s a very fine paddle and I’m very close to using it.” He put it on his desk and drew her close. “Now, my dear, I’m going to give you a kiss good night, and then I’m going to go back to work on my letter and count silently to ten. When I look up, I expect you to have disappeared completely. Are we clear with one another?”
    “How quickly are you going to count?”
    “Minette.”
    “It’s only that I don’t know how quickly I’ll need to walk. You have a big library.”
    He cupped her cheek, and when she lifted her lips to his, he kissed her forehead instead. Oh, this whole situation was maddening.
    “Are you counting now?” she asked when he released her.
    “I’m already nearly to two.”
    She took a look at the paddle—damn Warren—and turned for the door. She opened it so forcefully she nearly bowled over a footman. She felt sorry for the man but she was so very angry. She ignored him, took a few steps down the hall, and leaned against the smooth mahogany paneling. This was not how things ought to go at all. She wanted to cry. Well, she began to cry a little, but she quickly realized nothing would come of tears.
    Or, rather, nothing would come of
quiet
tears.
    She looked over to be sure the door was still ajar. The footman had been so offended when she knocked into him he hadn’t remembered to shut it. She broke into her best theatrical cry, the one she used when the stakes were highest. They’d never be any higher than they were now. When she got no response, she cried louder. She thought she saw the footman’s eyebrow twitch. When he moved as if to shut the door, she gave him an awful look so he froze where he was and turned to face front.
    “Oh, I can’t believe I’m to be left alone here,” she wailed in melodramatic grief. “I can’t bear it. I’ll start sleepwalking all over again. I’ll probably walk off a tower or something, and dash my brains all over the cobblestones below.” She paused, but heard nothing within, so she took a deep breath and began again. “All I want is to be a proper wife. I can’t bear this, when I love my new husband so much.” She wept as if her heart was breaking,