Read Online Perfect Bride by Samantha James - Free Book Online Page B

silly bonnet. He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her. “How the devil do you propose to do that?”
    “As you can see, I shall be walking.” Almost defi antly she tugged at the ribbons on her bonnet. “And you shan’t stop me.”
    “You shall no more walk out than you walked in.” Hunched over, she was swaying as if she were tipsy— she looked ready to tumble over at any moment.
    But her eyes blazed rebelliously. Justin was right. She was a termagant, a stubborn one at that.
    “What do you propose to wear?” he asked.
    “I’m afraid this night rail will have to do. But you needn’t worry. I’ll return it to your sister. Why, per haps she’d even like the use of my clothing since I was given the use of hers.”
    The hoity-toity miss again! Oh, but it was a role she’d played well, for the chit was surely high in the instep!
    “Oh, I doubt that.” His eyes slid over her. “As practical as my sister Julianna is, she’s a bit more dis criminating when it comes to choice of gown. But perhaps it’s a good thing Tansy mended your cloak and gown and cleaned your boots. I confess, I didn’t understand why she bothered.”
    “Please thank her for me then. Now, where are they?”
    Sebastian gestured to the highboy. He crossed to stand beside it and opened the door. “Come get them, if you like.”
    The look she cast him was distinctly withering. She took one step, then managed another. With a gri mace, she tried to straighten upright and failed. The nightgown gaped, offering a considerable and un constrained view of swelling generous curves. He availed himself of the opportunity.
    She saw.
    “Why, you pompous, blue-blooded ass!” Her curse spoke glaringly of her roots in St. Giles. She clenched her fist and aimed at his jaw.
    It was a pitiable effort. She pitched straight into his arms and he didn’t even have to move.
    “You missed,” he said calmly.
    “Let me go! You don’t want me here.”
    She was leaning against him heavily, glowering through the bright golden screen of her hair. It spilled over her shoulder ...and across his sleeve. A most unusual color, he mused distantly, thick and curling and lustrous, as if it had been poured through by burnished rays of the day’s last sunlight.
    He sighed. “My dear young woman, you are in jured. Need I remind you that you are in my care?”
    “Your care! Why you bothered, I’ve no idea, for you’ve made your feelings about me quite clear. Be sides, I don’t like the way you look at me!”
    Sebastian blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
    “You look at me in quite the same manner as the men at the Crow’s Nest. But I am not a strumpet!”
    A claim of righteous indignation, if ever he’d heard one.
    “So if you’re going to look at me, sir, look me in the eye!”
    Sir . A distinct improvement over “blue-blooded ass.” A vast improvement from Lord Shyte. It ap peared he was gaining status in her eyes.
    This time he was careful to gaze into those eyes, as strikingly unusual as her hair. Surrounded by thick, dark lashes, they were almost golden, quite unlike anything he’d ever seen before.
    “You’re right. It wasn’t a very gentlemanly thing to do.”
    “I’m glad you realize it.” She tipped her head back to look at him, and as she did, her bonnet tumbled to the floor.
    “My bonnet!” she cried. “Oh, please, I must have it!”
    “It’s quite wretched,” he said before thinking bet ter of it.
    She gave a cry. “It’s not wretched! It’s beautiful and it’s mine. And so is my necklace, and as soon as I have it back, I’ll be on my way.”
    Her lips were tremulous, her eyes suspiciously bright. Please, he prayed, not tears .
    A strangled sob...and something inside him constricted. Damn, but he should have known. A tor rent was imminent if he didn’t act quickly. Even as the thought spun through his mind, she tried to push her way through him to retrieve her bonnet. His hold tightened, a confining restraint that was gentle