Read Online Thunder and Roses by Mary Jo Putney - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mary Jo Putney
Tags: Fiction, Historical fiction, General, Romance, Historical, Love Stories, Wales, Wales - Social Life and Customs - 18th Century
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hours. I see why you went to the effort to bring them back.”
He regarded the penguins pensively. “For a time I considered creating a menagerie made up exclusively of black and white animals.”
“Was that because you always wear black and white yourself and wanted a place where you would fit right in?”
He grinned. “No, it was because I like zebras almost as much as penguins. Zebras are African creatures that look like black and white striped ponies. They race across the grasslands only a few inches apart, like a cavalry charge, or the trained horses at Astley’s Circus.”
Intrigued, Clare tried to imagine such a sight. “They sound interesting. Why did you change your mind?”
“Zebras are at home in the blazing African sun and the endless plains. I was afraid that in damp, rainy Wales, they’d fall into a decline and die on me. The peacocks complain about the weather constantly, but since I’m not the one who brought them here from India, I refuse to feel guilty.”
“Everyone complains about the Welsh weather. It is the greatest single source of Welsh identity.”
He chuckled. “True. Yet I missed the weather when I was away. It’s always changing, which is more interesting than week after week of boring sunshine.”
Three more penguins hurled themselves into the water. Nicholas said, “It’s best to observe them below the surface. It’s like watching an underwater ballet. They play together like otters.” An expression of unholy mischief crossed his face. “Let’s watch them. It’s a warm day— perfect for a swim.” He moved a dozen steps away from the pebble beach and stripped off his coat and waistcoat, then began to untie his cravat.
Penguins forgotten, Clare’s jaw dropped. “You can’t just take off your clothing and jump in the lake.”
“Of course I can.” He dropped his cravat on his other garments. “If you were a proper mistress, you would, too. Though in that case we might not get as far as the water.”
“You aren’t serious,” she said nervously.
“Ah, Clare, how little you know me.” He sat on a rock and tugged off his boots, then stood and unbuttoned the throat of his shirt. “I hope the penguins don’t decide to use my clothing for nest-building—my valet would be furious.”
As he pulled the shirt over his head, exposing a large swath of smooth, dark skin, she stammered, “So-stop. This isn’t decent.”
“Why? Penguins, zebras, peacocks, and all the rest of the earth’s creatures go about in the skin God gave them. It’s downright unnatural for humans to always cover themselves. In warmer parts of the world, they don’t.” Laughing, he tossed his shirt onto the growing mound of clothing.
His chest and shoulders were as beautifully muscled as a Greek statue, but warm with life, more inviting than marble could ever be. Clare was paralyzed, unable to look away from the ebony hair that dusted his chest, then arrowed down his hard midriff in a dark line that disappeared behind the edge of his pantaloons.
“Sure you won’t want to join me? The water will be cold, but the sun is warm and a penguin ballet is a rare sight.” He began unbuttoning his pantaloons.
Clare bolted. Without looking back, she gasped, “I’ll wait with the horses.”
His laughter followed her into the woods.
Clare ran until she could no longer see the lake, then stopped and clung to a tree, her heart pounding. As she struggled to regain her breath, she made an appalling discovery.
She had wanted, rather desperately, to stay and see his naked body.
Bark chipped away as her nails bit into the tree trunk. How could she want something so immoral? How could twenty-six years of irreproachable behavior be forgotten so quickly?
Her feverish mind sought for a calm, rational excuse for going back to watch him swim. Perhaps … perhaps observing Nicholas now would diminish his air of
He regarded the penguins pensively. “For a time I considered creating a menagerie made up exclusively of black and white animals.”
“Was that because you always wear black and white yourself and wanted a place where you would fit right in?”
He grinned. “No, it was because I like zebras almost as much as penguins. Zebras are African creatures that look like black and white striped ponies. They race across the grasslands only a few inches apart, like a cavalry charge, or the trained horses at Astley’s Circus.”
Intrigued, Clare tried to imagine such a sight. “They sound interesting. Why did you change your mind?”
“Zebras are at home in the blazing African sun and the endless plains. I was afraid that in damp, rainy Wales, they’d fall into a decline and die on me. The peacocks complain about the weather constantly, but since I’m not the one who brought them here from India, I refuse to feel guilty.”
“Everyone complains about the Welsh weather. It is the greatest single source of Welsh identity.”
He chuckled. “True. Yet I missed the weather when I was away. It’s always changing, which is more interesting than week after week of boring sunshine.”
Three more penguins hurled themselves into the water. Nicholas said, “It’s best to observe them below the surface. It’s like watching an underwater ballet. They play together like otters.” An expression of unholy mischief crossed his face. “Let’s watch them. It’s a warm day— perfect for a swim.” He moved a dozen steps away from the pebble beach and stripped off his coat and waistcoat, then began to untie his cravat.
Penguins forgotten, Clare’s jaw dropped. “You can’t just take off your clothing and jump in the lake.”
“Of course I can.” He dropped his cravat on his other garments. “If you were a proper mistress, you would, too. Though in that case we might not get as far as the water.”
“You aren’t serious,” she said nervously.
“Ah, Clare, how little you know me.” He sat on a rock and tugged off his boots, then stood and unbuttoned the throat of his shirt. “I hope the penguins don’t decide to use my clothing for nest-building—my valet would be furious.”
As he pulled the shirt over his head, exposing a large swath of smooth, dark skin, she stammered, “So-stop. This isn’t decent.”
“Why? Penguins, zebras, peacocks, and all the rest of the earth’s creatures go about in the skin God gave them. It’s downright unnatural for humans to always cover themselves. In warmer parts of the world, they don’t.” Laughing, he tossed his shirt onto the growing mound of clothing.
His chest and shoulders were as beautifully muscled as a Greek statue, but warm with life, more inviting than marble could ever be. Clare was paralyzed, unable to look away from the ebony hair that dusted his chest, then arrowed down his hard midriff in a dark line that disappeared behind the edge of his pantaloons.
“Sure you won’t want to join me? The water will be cold, but the sun is warm and a penguin ballet is a rare sight.” He began unbuttoning his pantaloons.
Clare bolted. Without looking back, she gasped, “I’ll wait with the horses.”
His laughter followed her into the woods.
Clare ran until she could no longer see the lake, then stopped and clung to a tree, her heart pounding. As she struggled to regain her breath, she made an appalling discovery.
She had wanted, rather desperately, to stay and see his naked body.
Bark chipped away as her nails bit into the tree trunk. How could she want something so immoral? How could twenty-six years of irreproachable behavior be forgotten so quickly?
Her feverish mind sought for a calm, rational excuse for going back to watch him swim. Perhaps … perhaps observing Nicholas now would diminish his air of
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