Read Online Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides) by Lynette Vinet - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lynette Vinet
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before—a clear indication to Lark that Lady Marlee Arden must be what Richard had thought she was—a wanton.
“Carpenter, inform Mrs. Mort that Lady Arden and I shall dine alone tonight in the dining room,” Lark brusquely ordered and headed for the door. “And make certain we’re not disturbed.”
~ ~ ~
The gown Marlee chose to wear that night was one of her most colorful. Dressed in the cream silk creation, Marlee’s delicate coloring was enhanced by the orange and green embroidery. The vivid colors caused her cheeks to glow, the pale yellow silk tabby petticoat highlighted the matching slippers on her feet. When she glided into the candlelit dining room that night, it seemed to Lark that she was the sun personified.
She stopped short when he came to take her arm. “Am I early, my lord? Barbara and Simon haven’t come down yet.”
“You’re on time, my dear. The others are eating in their rooms tonight. I informed Mrs. Mort that we are to dine alone.”
“Just the two of us?” Her voice became small and hesitant.
“If you’d rather not—” He appeared disconcerted.
“Oh, no, this is fine, my lord,” Marlee hurriedly assured him, because this was very fine indeed, dining alone with her husband. She started to take her place at the end of the long table when Arden gently nudged her forward, leading her to the chair beside his own, as if he truly wanted her there.
More than anything in the world, Marlee wanted to be near him, literally ached for her husband to care for her. But she was wise enough to realize he didn’t, not now at least, but perhaps in the future. She was willing to wait; she’d wait forever.
When he took the liberty of filling her crystal goblet with a rich red port, her fascinated gaze rested on his strong and capable hands. Everything about Arden fascinated her. Tonight, as always, she was struck at his handsomeness. Attired in a wine-colored jacket which was fashioned from a soft velvet and lined in a black silk material that matched his trousers, he looked exceedingly wonderful. His hair was slicked back into a queue and emphasized his rugged and masculine features. Marlee found herself memorizing each and every line on his face.
“My lady, is something wrong?” he asked her in a surprisingly husky voice that sent shivers of primitive delight down her spinal column. “You’ve not stopped staring at me. You may tell me if my costume is amiss. I won’t fault you for your honesty, I promise you.”
“Forgive me, I’m sorry, but—” she stopped herself, feeling a blush start at her hairline and spread across her entire face and neck at what she was about to say. But she couldn’t help herself and plodded on daringly as she burst out, “You’re so handsome, my lord, that I can’t help but stare.” There she’d been honest with him and said what was on her mind but couldn’t speak what was in her heart.
He stared hard at her, and seemed startled himself, almost as if he hadn’t expected such an admission. Finally, he laughed aloud, but she knew from the joyous quality of his tone that he wasn’t offended or thought her a simpleton, either. “How delightful you are, utterly and completely delightful.”
No one had ever called her “delightful” and because Arden was the first to compliment her in such a way, his words touched her heart. “I believe in being honest, my lord.”
Lifting his glass of port, he solemnly toasted her. “To you. I wish others could share your honesty.”
He sounded so sad that Marlee felt tears spring to her eyes and was grateful she didn’t have to say anything because Mary Carter entered the room and served their stew. When Mrs. Mort later appeared to take their plates away, Marlee cleared her throat. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve hired a staff without asking your permission.”
Leaning back in his chair, the candlelight clearly emphasized the rugged planes of his face. “This is your home, I told you that
“Carpenter, inform Mrs. Mort that Lady Arden and I shall dine alone tonight in the dining room,” Lark brusquely ordered and headed for the door. “And make certain we’re not disturbed.”
~ ~ ~
The gown Marlee chose to wear that night was one of her most colorful. Dressed in the cream silk creation, Marlee’s delicate coloring was enhanced by the orange and green embroidery. The vivid colors caused her cheeks to glow, the pale yellow silk tabby petticoat highlighted the matching slippers on her feet. When she glided into the candlelit dining room that night, it seemed to Lark that she was the sun personified.
She stopped short when he came to take her arm. “Am I early, my lord? Barbara and Simon haven’t come down yet.”
“You’re on time, my dear. The others are eating in their rooms tonight. I informed Mrs. Mort that we are to dine alone.”
“Just the two of us?” Her voice became small and hesitant.
“If you’d rather not—” He appeared disconcerted.
“Oh, no, this is fine, my lord,” Marlee hurriedly assured him, because this was very fine indeed, dining alone with her husband. She started to take her place at the end of the long table when Arden gently nudged her forward, leading her to the chair beside his own, as if he truly wanted her there.
More than anything in the world, Marlee wanted to be near him, literally ached for her husband to care for her. But she was wise enough to realize he didn’t, not now at least, but perhaps in the future. She was willing to wait; she’d wait forever.
When he took the liberty of filling her crystal goblet with a rich red port, her fascinated gaze rested on his strong and capable hands. Everything about Arden fascinated her. Tonight, as always, she was struck at his handsomeness. Attired in a wine-colored jacket which was fashioned from a soft velvet and lined in a black silk material that matched his trousers, he looked exceedingly wonderful. His hair was slicked back into a queue and emphasized his rugged and masculine features. Marlee found herself memorizing each and every line on his face.
“My lady, is something wrong?” he asked her in a surprisingly husky voice that sent shivers of primitive delight down her spinal column. “You’ve not stopped staring at me. You may tell me if my costume is amiss. I won’t fault you for your honesty, I promise you.”
“Forgive me, I’m sorry, but—” she stopped herself, feeling a blush start at her hairline and spread across her entire face and neck at what she was about to say. But she couldn’t help herself and plodded on daringly as she burst out, “You’re so handsome, my lord, that I can’t help but stare.” There she’d been honest with him and said what was on her mind but couldn’t speak what was in her heart.
He stared hard at her, and seemed startled himself, almost as if he hadn’t expected such an admission. Finally, he laughed aloud, but she knew from the joyous quality of his tone that he wasn’t offended or thought her a simpleton, either. “How delightful you are, utterly and completely delightful.”
No one had ever called her “delightful” and because Arden was the first to compliment her in such a way, his words touched her heart. “I believe in being honest, my lord.”
Lifting his glass of port, he solemnly toasted her. “To you. I wish others could share your honesty.”
He sounded so sad that Marlee felt tears spring to her eyes and was grateful she didn’t have to say anything because Mary Carter entered the room and served their stew. When Mrs. Mort later appeared to take their plates away, Marlee cleared her throat. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve hired a staff without asking your permission.”
Leaning back in his chair, the candlelight clearly emphasized the rugged planes of his face. “This is your home, I told you that
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