Read Online Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 08] - Sanguinet's Crown by Patricia Veryan - Free Book Online

the countryside
unchaperoned, like any—" He bit off the rest of that remark.
    "Wanton… ?" prompted Charity. "I know very little of the
behaviour of such women. But I am sure you can enlighten me, Mr.
Redmond."
    What he would like to do, he thought, was to spank her. Hard.
They were entering the woods now, and she trod along the farthest edge
of the narrow path, preferring to allow her skirts to brush against the
undergrowth rather than risk an encounter with his own person. He said
haughtily, "I doubt your brother would appreciate my rendering such
instruction, Miss Strand. Indeed, I am surprised you would desire so
improper a topic of conversation.''
    The horrid beast had won that round. "Oh, I do not," she
assured him. "But you were bored when I attempted to engage you in
commonplaces."
    Such forthrightness had not often come his way from a lady,
and he was so taken aback as to be tardy with a counterattack.
    Charity allowed him no extra time. "I expect that was my
fault," she went on, "for I've had very little practice at it, since my
brothers do not encourage what they consider intellectual trivia. If
you insist upon conversation, I must try to find a topic that interests
you, for I believe that is
de rigueur
for a
polite lady, no? Let me see—ah! I have it! We shall exchange gossip."
She beamed upon him kindly.
    Redmond blinked. "I think I am being roasted. Unless you have
been told I am an unconscionable gabblemonger.'' He said this, well
aware that it would prompt an immediate and flustered denial. Miss
Strand, however, did not react according to convention, instead
knitting her brows in silence. Irked, but faintly intrigued, he prodded
at length, "Ma'am?"
    "My apologies, Mr. Redmond. I was casting my mind over some of
the things I have been told of you."
    "Were you, by gad! It must have been a good deal."
    "A deal, at least."
    Stunned, his gaze darted to her in time to see the quiver that
tugged at her shapely lips. "The devil!" he protested.
    "No, no! I assure you, Mr. Redmond, no one has called you
that. Not, er, in my hearing, at least."
    He was quite unable to hold back a grin at this excellent
riposte
and said promptly, "I am maligned, alas. I pray you will not believe me
a monster.''
    "Oh, of course I do not." And after a thoughtful pause, she
went on, fancying she extended an olive branch, "I suppose, for our own
secret reasons, we all present a false character to the world, do we
not?"
    She could scarcely have blundered onto a more unfortunate
choice of words. Redmond stiffened. "The ladies certainly do. One way
or another."
    So much for olive branches, thought Charity, and yearning to
push him into the nearest bramble bush, said calmly,"We have little
choice. Whatever our private inclinations, we are obliged to conform to
expected patterns of insipid accomplishments; to speak inanities lest
we be judged bluestockings; to strive always to meet the male notions
of beauty, however far we may be from hoping to achieve such a state.''
    Scanning her with resentful eyes, Redmond felt no compelling
urge to argue the point as she undoubtedly expected him to do. She was
not a beauty, nor ever would be. Her face was too gaunt, and her shape
more that of a boy than a young woman. The eyes, one had to admit, were
quite beautiful, and that red-gold hair not at all bad, especially in
the sunshine, but her manners were deplorable. He responded, "I fancy
every man has his own unique concept of beauty. As for being a
bluestocking, do you perhaps mean that you enjoy to read? Or do you
refer to those appalling spinsters who are well informed on everything
from politics to philately and delight in proving to any gentleman how
inferior is his own knowledge by comparison?"
    "Oh, for an axe!" thought Charity, but she somehow managed a
creditable little titter. "Acquit me of that, I beg. Surely you must
know that a girl has to do far less to be judged a bluestocking. Let
her only discuss anything more intellectual than gossip,