Read Online The Taming of the Rake by Kasey Michaels - Free Book Online

don’t see the point of keeping the family yacht at Brighton,” he was saying now, for at least the third time. “Who goes to Brighton, anyway, except fat Prinny and his fat ladies tottering about that monstrosity of his, probably bouncing off one another. Minarets? What possessed the man, do you think? I mean— minarets? What’s wrong with good old-fashioned English turrets, I ask you? Ah, there it is, another fingerpost pointing the way to Hove. Since you probably won’t wish to go any farther south before turning north, I imagine we part company here.”
    “Thank heaven for small mercies,” Beau said as the three of them pulled up their mounts at the crossroads and looked at the fingerpost. Brighton lay to the south, Blackdown Hills and one of their father’s lesser estates to the west; a good stopping point for the night,and some serious thinking. “Although, of course, we’ll miss you terribly.”
    “I won’t,” Chelsea said, half standing in the sidesaddle and none too discreetly rubbing at her derriere. “It’s not a proper elopement if one brings one’s brother along. Especially one who sings.”
    “Ah, my dear soon-to-be-sister, I am known for my fine voice.”
    “Not to me, you’re not. I imagine people are just being kind if they compliment you on it,” Chelsea said, settling herself once more, but not quite able to hide a wince of pain as she did so. She turned her head to look at Beau. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you? He can find the Channel by himself, without us accompanying him?”
    “I’m not sure,” Beau answered, as he’d been considering an alternate plan these past two hours, ever since their hurried meal at an out-of-the-way inn, when he’d noticed Chelsea’s reluctance to remount her horse. “You’ve a good seat, Chelsea, but I don’t know that you’ll enjoy riding all the way to Scotland. I’ve been thinking we might leave Puck to his own devices once we reach Brighton, and take the yacht.”
    “What? All along the Channel, ’round Cornwall, out into the sea and up? It would take forever,” Puck pointed out. “I can see you wanting to get to know your bride, Beau, but confined together like that on a small boat? I’d give you odds that by the time you reach Scotland you will have murdered each other.”
    “He has a point,” Chelsea said, nodding. “I’m notcertain I like the idea. I’ll be fine as soon as you locate a coach for us.” She looked at him with some intensity. “You are planning to hire a coach, aren’t you, now that we’re safely away from London?”
    “I’d planned to spend the day reclining on a comfortable couch, nursing this damned headache that still won’t quit. Instead, within the space of a heartbeat, you, madam, have turned my entire life, my orderly existence, upside down. But to answer your question, no, I have not considered hiring a coach.”
    “Then I suggest you consider it now,” Chelsea said, rolling her eyes at what she clearly believed was a horrible overreaction to her brilliant plan. “Honestly. I had only a few minutes to come up with my plan, so, of course, it wasn’t complete in all areas. But you’ve had entire hours now. I should think you might be able to pass beyond the idea of us riding all the way to Scotland on horseback, and I don’t think spending the next several weeks bobbing up and down on the water during spring storms could possibly be considered a laudable plan in any case.”
    “Yes, Beau, for shame,” Puck said, gleefully joining his voice to Chelsea’s. And then he frowned and put a hand to his ear. “This is the main road to Brighton, correct? We didn’t take some lesser highway, because we didn’t have to worry about pursuit? Because that doesn’t sound like a coach barreling toward us. We’ve heard plenty of those.”
    Beau, who had not been precisely jolly from the moment he’d first set eyes—and ears—on Lady ChelseaMills-Beckman, opened his mouth to say something