Read Online No Groom at the Inn: A Dukes Behaving Badly Novella by Megan Frampton - Free Book Online
Authors: Megan Frampton
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afford them literally, which was why he was willing to give her so much for just a few weeks of her time.
But the cost of an emotional entanglement—that was far more than he was willing to pay. Which made her understanding and sympathy even more dangerous to his piece of mind.
But meanwhile, he couldn’t resist the urge to find out more about her. To give in to the pull he felt to be with her, to see what it would be like to kiss a goddess.
He would just have to stay on his guard, which he’d been doing his whole life.
“What have you found, then, Miss Green?” he asked, following Sophy as she headed toward the back of the chapel. He’d found a treasure, he thought, and not just the pitcher on the table—a treasure he could keep for just a bit, just long enough to soak in its warmth, and feel the calming stillness, if only for a moment.
Peragrate:
1. A half-measure.
2. To travel or pass through (a country, stage, etc.).
3. The closure to a teapot.
C HAPTER N INE
“A nd after dinner, we will play games, as we always do during the holidays.” Again, Mrs. Green didn’t make a suggestion so much as issue a command.
Sophronia wondered if the woman would take it amiss if she saluted in response.
And then wanted to laugh, because of course she would.
They’d spent another hour at the abbey, Jamie walking around the place with great strides and gazing at each of the objects in the gallery for far longer than Sophronia would have deemed possible.
For a man who claimed to be so restless, he was definitely able to be still when he was engrossed in something.
Sophronia shifted in her chair as the ramifications of that thought crossed her mind. She couldn’t seem to help it, she immediately looked his way, something she had done for most of the dinner. She’d barely concentrated on the food, actually, since her mind was swimming with images of him, his expression as he looked at yet another ancient dusty object, how intent he seemed.
There was something so moving about it, and yes, something so intriguing, as though she weren’t already intrigued.
(She was entirely intrigued.)
What would she do if he were to turn that attention, that specific, engaged attention to her?
He had somewhat already, but it was nothing like the way he had looked as he’d stalked around, picking something up and just holding it in his hand—that large, strong hand, for goodness’ sake, Sophronia, think of something else —regarding it with a keen interest that sent shivers down her spine.
What could she do to incite and engage his interest? Why was she even thinking about it?
Well, that last one she could answer—because she couldn’t seem to stop being intrigued by him, and she wanted to feel what it would be like to be the object of his scrutiny.
To have him hold her the way he’d held one of those items, to look at her with that intense interest.
“Lady Sophronia, are you interested?”
Sophronia gulped at all the ideas that put into her head, but didn’t think Mrs. Green meant to ask any of what Sophronia was mentally answering.
Although the answer to all the questions was “Yes.”
“Yes, Mrs. Green, I am.”
Mrs. Green smiled thinly, as though wishing Sophronia had said she was too old and tired and determined to remain a spinster for the rest of her life to play any holiday games.
Or it could be that Sophronia was imagining all that.
“I am delighted you feel you can participate in these humorous games, my lady. I would not have thought someone with your interests would want to do something so frivolous.”
Or she wasn’t imagining it at all.
“My Sophy is quite playful, actually,” James said. “She has too intricate a personality to be understood at first or even second meeting. It took me many weeks before I was able to peel back the layers and expose the woman underneath.”
Sophronia felt her cheeks—and lots of other parts of her—start to heat at his words. Peel back the layers
But the cost of an emotional entanglement—that was far more than he was willing to pay. Which made her understanding and sympathy even more dangerous to his piece of mind.
But meanwhile, he couldn’t resist the urge to find out more about her. To give in to the pull he felt to be with her, to see what it would be like to kiss a goddess.
He would just have to stay on his guard, which he’d been doing his whole life.
“What have you found, then, Miss Green?” he asked, following Sophy as she headed toward the back of the chapel. He’d found a treasure, he thought, and not just the pitcher on the table—a treasure he could keep for just a bit, just long enough to soak in its warmth, and feel the calming stillness, if only for a moment.
Peragrate:
1. A half-measure.
2. To travel or pass through (a country, stage, etc.).
3. The closure to a teapot.
C HAPTER N INE
“A nd after dinner, we will play games, as we always do during the holidays.” Again, Mrs. Green didn’t make a suggestion so much as issue a command.
Sophronia wondered if the woman would take it amiss if she saluted in response.
And then wanted to laugh, because of course she would.
They’d spent another hour at the abbey, Jamie walking around the place with great strides and gazing at each of the objects in the gallery for far longer than Sophronia would have deemed possible.
For a man who claimed to be so restless, he was definitely able to be still when he was engrossed in something.
Sophronia shifted in her chair as the ramifications of that thought crossed her mind. She couldn’t seem to help it, she immediately looked his way, something she had done for most of the dinner. She’d barely concentrated on the food, actually, since her mind was swimming with images of him, his expression as he looked at yet another ancient dusty object, how intent he seemed.
There was something so moving about it, and yes, something so intriguing, as though she weren’t already intrigued.
(She was entirely intrigued.)
What would she do if he were to turn that attention, that specific, engaged attention to her?
He had somewhat already, but it was nothing like the way he had looked as he’d stalked around, picking something up and just holding it in his hand—that large, strong hand, for goodness’ sake, Sophronia, think of something else —regarding it with a keen interest that sent shivers down her spine.
What could she do to incite and engage his interest? Why was she even thinking about it?
Well, that last one she could answer—because she couldn’t seem to stop being intrigued by him, and she wanted to feel what it would be like to be the object of his scrutiny.
To have him hold her the way he’d held one of those items, to look at her with that intense interest.
“Lady Sophronia, are you interested?”
Sophronia gulped at all the ideas that put into her head, but didn’t think Mrs. Green meant to ask any of what Sophronia was mentally answering.
Although the answer to all the questions was “Yes.”
“Yes, Mrs. Green, I am.”
Mrs. Green smiled thinly, as though wishing Sophronia had said she was too old and tired and determined to remain a spinster for the rest of her life to play any holiday games.
Or it could be that Sophronia was imagining all that.
“I am delighted you feel you can participate in these humorous games, my lady. I would not have thought someone with your interests would want to do something so frivolous.”
Or she wasn’t imagining it at all.
“My Sophy is quite playful, actually,” James said. “She has too intricate a personality to be understood at first or even second meeting. It took me many weeks before I was able to peel back the layers and expose the woman underneath.”
Sophronia felt her cheeks—and lots of other parts of her—start to heat at his words. Peel back the layers
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