Read Online Raven's Ransom by Hayley Ann Solomon - Free Book Online

evening.”
    “It is Gareth.”
    It had a lovely ring to it. Primrose longed to test it out on her lips, but she had stretched impropriety far enough for one evening. “Now you are being ridiculous. You know perfectly well I cannot call you that either!”
    He grinned. “First I am absurd, then I am ridiculous. There is no pleasing you, ma’am! Besides, you are being missish! ”
    “Not missish, just sensible. I will not call you by your first name, so don’t, I beg you, even think it!”
    “Well, I shall not be so nice in my proprieties! I shall call you Primrose when we are alone. And I hope, if I may say so, that that will be often.”
    His eyes lingered upon her face so that Primrose’s heart fluttered like the flibberty gibberts she so abhorred. She dropped her gaze, so he would not see the confusion into which she was cast at this preposterous statement. She adopted her severest tones as she replied.
    “And now you are being foolish, sir! Doubtless we shall not meet again under such irregular circumstances. And I still have not your name!”
    The gentleman smiled, pleased to tease a little longer. “More is the pity, then, my sweet scolder! Absurd, ridiculous, and foolish. You should meet my mother. It will be a regular marriage of minds, for I assure you she shares your sentiments! Now don’t look so cross, though I swear your features are beautiful even when you pout. No, don’t grin, it spoils the effect.” My lord folded his arms pleasantly and regarded Primrose with amusement. Then, taking pity on her, for she was clearly torn between a laugh and a haughty grimace of annoyance, he relented.
    “Oh, very well, then, I suppose you will simply have to start ‘my lording me.’ Very boring, but have it your way. I am Gareth, Lord Rochester.”
    Primrose sat up a little straighter. “Then your mama is . . .”
    “Gwenyth, the dowager marchioness. Do you know her?”
    “Of course I do! She is so vivacious one would be hard-pressed not to know her! Besides, she is Lily’s godmother.”
    Rochester eyed her doubtfully.
    “She is?”
    “Yes, although I wager she is hardly aware of the fact! She must be godmama to dozens of the debutantes.”
    “Indeed, she is. Mama seems to attract friendship wherever she goes. She had so many bosom buddies at school that poor Father quite lost track!”
    “Yes, well my mother was one of them. Esmeralda Fincham, though it was probably such a long time ago she may hardly remember. Esmeralda married my father, Desmond Chartley, and asked the marchioness to stand godmama on Lily’s birth. I believe our Lily still has the diamond pin she sent for her christening. Most unsuitable of course, and entirely too generous.”
    “Sounds like Mama! She is a dear creature when she is not trying to cut one of her wheedles with me. You will love her.” Suddenly, it was important to Gareth that she did. He tried to figure how long he would have to sit in the carriage awaiting her arrival. There was a limit to his patience, after all, and the temptation set before him was rather unbearable.
    He wondered what scent she used that could be so fresh and sweet. He bent closer to breathe it once more, then regretted that impulsive action, for the scent was not only fresh and sweet, it was provocative in the extreme, like honeysuckle or musk. He had a very masculine desire to taste of its sweetness once more, then stopped himself with heroic forbearance. The lady obviously had no idea of the effect such a fatal scent could have upon the senses. She looked so calm, so peaceful, it was at odds with the erotic impulses she was unwittingly fostering within him. Oh, how much longer, he wondered, would he have to endure this tantalizing form of self-abnegation?
    He was not left wondering long, for Lady Rochester appeared sooner than he had dared anticipate. Her eyebrows rose markedly at the spectacle that confronted her, but she waved the footman away languidly, rather cleverly obscuring his view