Read Online The King of Threadneedle Street by Moriah Densley - Free Book Online
Authors: Moriah Densley
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him.
After a surprisingly difficult wrestle, Andrew finally rolled her onto her back and restrained her wrists. She gasped for breath, cursing and thrashing. For the first time in all the years he had known her, he was truly frightened of her.
“Why?” she whimpered. “Why, Andrew? If I am believed to have loose morals, what chance have I of ever making a match with even the lowest gentry? Even a merchant or clerk won’t have me now.”
Guilt flooded over him, bashing at his mind more effectively than her fists had. He hadn’t thought of those things, only of how proud he was to let his friends think he had bedded her. Everything she had cursed at him was utterly deserved.
“I… I am sorry, Alysia. I am a fool. I didn’t think of that.”
Her eyes flashed with contempt. He was far from forgiven.
“It was such a… pleasure to let them think it was true.” He nearly choked on his words, embarrassed by his stark honesty, “I wanted it to be true. It was selfish and unpardonable for me to use you so. I will tell them I was mistaken, right away. I promise.”
Alysia closed her eyes and made a visible effort to calm herself.
He touched the bridge of his nose, testing the swollen bump that throbbed and tingled.
“I will have the marks to prove my shame, Lisa. They will know you have punished me. I accept my penance gladly,” he said playfully, trying to coax a response from her. “Please say you forgive me?”
She sighed. “You think the world eats out of your hand, Andrew. The damage will be undone merely because you wish it to be so? If only that were possible—”
“I am sorry, Lisa. I apologize. Sorry. Sorry!” He shook his head in frustration, and clenched his jaw until his teeth hurt.
“You can be so thoughtless.”
“Didn’t you hear that I wish it were true? I wish you were my lover!” That sobered her. “Lisa, I grow tired of watching men ogle you. And you are only fifteen!” He ducked his head, avoiding her eyes. “I would rather hear my friends speak of you that way in reference to myself than—” He couldn’t finish, didn’t want to tell what they said about her.
He released her hands and propped himself on his forearms on either side of her. The bridge of his nose pulsed with a sharp pain which he tried to ignore. During the course of their wrestling they had rolled into the cave, and they lay on the soft bed of gravel and damp moss. His chest rested across hers, making him aware of the rise and fall of her breathing against his. Her legs stretched out against the side of his, warm and firm. Wet underclothes suddenly became a matter entirely departed from a convenient means of enjoying a swim. Her nails brushed along his scalp as she tousled his hair. She pushed away the locks over his forehead concealing his expression. “Is that true, Andrew? Is that really why?”
“Yes.”
She stroked her fingers from his ear to chin, persuading him to look up at her. He closed his eyes and savored the slow burning sensation. When he dared meet her gaze, he was surprised to see the anger gone. What emotion had replaced it, he couldn’t name.
“I didn’t mean to harm your prospects.” He had to swallow twice before he could say, “I confess I have long assumed you would be mine.” She traced his bottom lip with one finger, watching his mouth instead of his eyes. “I see now that I was foolish and presumptive. I beg you will forgive me.”
“Yes.”
He was too young and ignorant to realize that with her one-word concession, Alysia resigned herself irrevocably to the class of society that was not respectable. The demimonde.
Andrew studied her expression, and the thought struck him that she very much appeared as though she wanted to be kissed. So soon after wanting to kill him. He didn’t understand the bizarre workings of her mind.
His hands were already exploring her. He couldn’t believe the softness of the skin on her throat and across her collar. He traced her eyebrows,
After a surprisingly difficult wrestle, Andrew finally rolled her onto her back and restrained her wrists. She gasped for breath, cursing and thrashing. For the first time in all the years he had known her, he was truly frightened of her.
“Why?” she whimpered. “Why, Andrew? If I am believed to have loose morals, what chance have I of ever making a match with even the lowest gentry? Even a merchant or clerk won’t have me now.”
Guilt flooded over him, bashing at his mind more effectively than her fists had. He hadn’t thought of those things, only of how proud he was to let his friends think he had bedded her. Everything she had cursed at him was utterly deserved.
“I… I am sorry, Alysia. I am a fool. I didn’t think of that.”
Her eyes flashed with contempt. He was far from forgiven.
“It was such a… pleasure to let them think it was true.” He nearly choked on his words, embarrassed by his stark honesty, “I wanted it to be true. It was selfish and unpardonable for me to use you so. I will tell them I was mistaken, right away. I promise.”
Alysia closed her eyes and made a visible effort to calm herself.
He touched the bridge of his nose, testing the swollen bump that throbbed and tingled.
“I will have the marks to prove my shame, Lisa. They will know you have punished me. I accept my penance gladly,” he said playfully, trying to coax a response from her. “Please say you forgive me?”
She sighed. “You think the world eats out of your hand, Andrew. The damage will be undone merely because you wish it to be so? If only that were possible—”
“I am sorry, Lisa. I apologize. Sorry. Sorry!” He shook his head in frustration, and clenched his jaw until his teeth hurt.
“You can be so thoughtless.”
“Didn’t you hear that I wish it were true? I wish you were my lover!” That sobered her. “Lisa, I grow tired of watching men ogle you. And you are only fifteen!” He ducked his head, avoiding her eyes. “I would rather hear my friends speak of you that way in reference to myself than—” He couldn’t finish, didn’t want to tell what they said about her.
He released her hands and propped himself on his forearms on either side of her. The bridge of his nose pulsed with a sharp pain which he tried to ignore. During the course of their wrestling they had rolled into the cave, and they lay on the soft bed of gravel and damp moss. His chest rested across hers, making him aware of the rise and fall of her breathing against his. Her legs stretched out against the side of his, warm and firm. Wet underclothes suddenly became a matter entirely departed from a convenient means of enjoying a swim. Her nails brushed along his scalp as she tousled his hair. She pushed away the locks over his forehead concealing his expression. “Is that true, Andrew? Is that really why?”
“Yes.”
She stroked her fingers from his ear to chin, persuading him to look up at her. He closed his eyes and savored the slow burning sensation. When he dared meet her gaze, he was surprised to see the anger gone. What emotion had replaced it, he couldn’t name.
“I didn’t mean to harm your prospects.” He had to swallow twice before he could say, “I confess I have long assumed you would be mine.” She traced his bottom lip with one finger, watching his mouth instead of his eyes. “I see now that I was foolish and presumptive. I beg you will forgive me.”
“Yes.”
He was too young and ignorant to realize that with her one-word concession, Alysia resigned herself irrevocably to the class of society that was not respectable. The demimonde.
Andrew studied her expression, and the thought struck him that she very much appeared as though she wanted to be kissed. So soon after wanting to kill him. He didn’t understand the bizarre workings of her mind.
His hands were already exploring her. He couldn’t believe the softness of the skin on her throat and across her collar. He traced her eyebrows,
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