Read Online Pistols at Dawn by Andrea Pickens - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Andrea Pickens
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the lordly arrogance, only a rather wistful plaintiveness more befitting a lost pup. With a start, she realized she felt no more threatened by his presence than she did by the frolicking hound in the meadow.
"I know you must think me a veritable monster," he slowly, his voice as pinched as his features. "And no doubt you wish me to the very hottest corner of Hell, but..." He paused in some confusion, his hands raking through his chestnut locks. "Good Lord, to say 'I'm sorry' seems so woefully inadequate. Any words would be, no matter how eloquently I might try to phrase them."
Ignoring the thrust of the hound's muzzle against his thigh, Lucien forced himself to continue. "What my uncle proposed... I want you to know I am more than willing to offer you the protection of my name. Despite what you must think, I am not really a wastrel or a vicious drunkard. I-I can't explain what happened that night, for I don't understand it myself."
He hitched in a deep breath. "But that sort of violence would never happen again, I swear it. I should be a decent sort of husband to you, Miss Meredith. And I should try very hard to make up for the suffering I have caused you."
It took a moment for her to answer. "It is a most generous offer, Mr. Harkness. But you would only be following one mistake with another, I think. After all, we barely have any acquaintance with each other and might soon come to regret such a hasty decision." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "I, for one, would wish for a better reason than mere fear of scandal to consider marriage. One that includes a mutual regard and affection."
He hung his head.
"But as for your apology, sir—my father was a rector, but not the fire and brimstone sort. He believed in forgiveness. As do I."
"It is you who are the generous one, Miss Meredith." A rueful quirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Though somehow I doubt your sister would care to hear you voice such kind sentiments."
Meredith answered with a quick smile of her own. "I'm afraid Eliza feels that she must look after all of us like a protective mother hen, though I am hardly a helpless chick any longer. I'm sorry she flew into the boughs with you."
"I believe it was a furred rather than feathered species that came to Uncle Marcus's mind in regard to your sister—a tigress to be exact." The glimmer of humor disappeared from his face, replaced by a more earnest expression. "But having a loving family is nothing to be sorry for. Indeed, you are truly fortunate to have someone who cares so deeply for you."
"Have you no siblings, Mr. Harkness?"
He shook his head. Meredith found something in his forlorn expression prompted yet another question from her.
"And your parents?"
Ajax whined and nuzzled his nose against Lucien's hand. The young man squatted down and began to scratch behind the animal's ears, drawing a low whoof of contentment for his efforts. "Would that people were so easy to please," he murmured softly. Then, looking up at Meredith, he added, "An outbreak of influenza swept through our estate when I was barely fourteen. I recovered. My parents did not."
"I'm so sorry. That must have been very difficult for you."
He winced. "I did not mean—that is, I am hardly trying to elicit sympathy from you."
Ignoring his halting apology, Meredith continued her gentle probing. "Is the earl your closest family, then?"
"Yes, Uncle Marcus is my guardian. For nine more months, that is."
"Oh dear, that has an ominous ring to it. I gather you and your uncle do not rub together very well. Do you chafe at the fact he holds the reins?"
"Rather it is he who regrets being saddled with the responsibility for a callow youth, and a bookish one at that. At least, I imagine he does. We don't know each other very well, but I can't help thinking I am hardly the sort of dashing fellow he would wish to be his heir. Everyone holds him the greatest awe, while me—well, you know quite well what should be thought of me."
"Perhaps you
"I know you must think me a veritable monster," he slowly, his voice as pinched as his features. "And no doubt you wish me to the very hottest corner of Hell, but..." He paused in some confusion, his hands raking through his chestnut locks. "Good Lord, to say 'I'm sorry' seems so woefully inadequate. Any words would be, no matter how eloquently I might try to phrase them."
Ignoring the thrust of the hound's muzzle against his thigh, Lucien forced himself to continue. "What my uncle proposed... I want you to know I am more than willing to offer you the protection of my name. Despite what you must think, I am not really a wastrel or a vicious drunkard. I-I can't explain what happened that night, for I don't understand it myself."
He hitched in a deep breath. "But that sort of violence would never happen again, I swear it. I should be a decent sort of husband to you, Miss Meredith. And I should try very hard to make up for the suffering I have caused you."
It took a moment for her to answer. "It is a most generous offer, Mr. Harkness. But you would only be following one mistake with another, I think. After all, we barely have any acquaintance with each other and might soon come to regret such a hasty decision." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "I, for one, would wish for a better reason than mere fear of scandal to consider marriage. One that includes a mutual regard and affection."
He hung his head.
"But as for your apology, sir—my father was a rector, but not the fire and brimstone sort. He believed in forgiveness. As do I."
"It is you who are the generous one, Miss Meredith." A rueful quirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Though somehow I doubt your sister would care to hear you voice such kind sentiments."
Meredith answered with a quick smile of her own. "I'm afraid Eliza feels that she must look after all of us like a protective mother hen, though I am hardly a helpless chick any longer. I'm sorry she flew into the boughs with you."
"I believe it was a furred rather than feathered species that came to Uncle Marcus's mind in regard to your sister—a tigress to be exact." The glimmer of humor disappeared from his face, replaced by a more earnest expression. "But having a loving family is nothing to be sorry for. Indeed, you are truly fortunate to have someone who cares so deeply for you."
"Have you no siblings, Mr. Harkness?"
He shook his head. Meredith found something in his forlorn expression prompted yet another question from her.
"And your parents?"
Ajax whined and nuzzled his nose against Lucien's hand. The young man squatted down and began to scratch behind the animal's ears, drawing a low whoof of contentment for his efforts. "Would that people were so easy to please," he murmured softly. Then, looking up at Meredith, he added, "An outbreak of influenza swept through our estate when I was barely fourteen. I recovered. My parents did not."
"I'm so sorry. That must have been very difficult for you."
He winced. "I did not mean—that is, I am hardly trying to elicit sympathy from you."
Ignoring his halting apology, Meredith continued her gentle probing. "Is the earl your closest family, then?"
"Yes, Uncle Marcus is my guardian. For nine more months, that is."
"Oh dear, that has an ominous ring to it. I gather you and your uncle do not rub together very well. Do you chafe at the fact he holds the reins?"
"Rather it is he who regrets being saddled with the responsibility for a callow youth, and a bookish one at that. At least, I imagine he does. We don't know each other very well, but I can't help thinking I am hardly the sort of dashing fellow he would wish to be his heir. Everyone holds him the greatest awe, while me—well, you know quite well what should be thought of me."
"Perhaps you
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