Read Online Too Scandalous to Wed by Alexandra Benedict - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alexandra Benedict
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Miss Ashby.”
“Rot!” Her eyes sparked, a dark fire burning in the bronze pools. “I think you flourish at a great many things, my lord, and I wish you’d share your accomplishments with me. We are friends, after all.”
Sebastian glowered at her, not really sure what to make of her request. If only he could think straight. But with the girl’s elfin fingers caressing his waist, stirring a fiery storm in his belly, there wasn’t much chance of that happening.
Brushing her palm away from his midriff, Sebastian set it atop his shoulder—where it belonged.
Belatedly he realized that wasn’t a very wise move, for now his hand would have to go on her waist. Bloody hell.
“Miss Ashby?” he said with firm purpose.
“Yes, my lord.”
And that was another thing. What the deuce did she mean by calling him “my lord” and “Ravenswood” at every turn? It’d been a quaint diversion the first night of his return, but now it was a bloody distraction to hear her call him by his title. He had the feeling the girl was funning with him each time she used the appellation.
“Ravenswood?”
He blinked. “What?”
“You had something to say to me, I believe.”
That’s right, he did. He had a great many things to say to her. Why aren’t you married yet? for one. And What the devil has come over you? for another. “Is that jasmine I smell?”
“Why, yes, my lord. Do you like it?”
Like it? He could wallow in it. It was his favorite scent. Not that he’d ever told the girl so. Certainly not. It was a mere coincidence she was wearing the one fragrance that could make his head spin.
Devil take it, that’s not what he wanted to talk to her about. “Miss Ashby—”
“Do you realize you’ve not stumbled once, my lord?”
Sebastian reflected upon her words. She was right, he hadn’t.
“You are a very good teacher, Miss Ashby.”
“Rubbish. You’re just not that poor a skater.”
No, he was a very poor skater, which made the balancing act all the more mystifying.
“You’ve misplaced your confidence in me, Miss Ashby.”
Slowly she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Sebastian watched the gentle sway of her locks, a dark auburn in hue. Her curls were tucked beneath a fetching fur cap, a few stray tendrils bouncing with each twirl on the ice.
She really did look like a snow faerie, so whimsical and fearless. Her bright eyes gleamed with laughter and life. And for just a moment, he could see himself in the honey brown pools. It alarmed him.
“It’s getting dark,” she said softly, her russet red lashes fluttering. “We should head back to the house.”
She broke away from the embrace and skated to the pond’s edge, leaving Sebastian feeling curiously cold in the center of the ice.
Chapter 7
A disgruntled Sebastian made his way through the house and scowled. Henrietta’s penchant for tardiness was rubbing off on him, it seemed. He had snored right through breakfast!
Stifling a curse, he stepped into the dining parlor.
“Morning, Seb.” Peter was sitting alone in the room, reading a paper. “’Bout time you roused your sleepy head to join us.”
Sebastian ignored the quip and poured himself a cup of lukewarm tea. He was hungry, but the serving plates on the table were dusted with crumbs. He looked at his brother.
“Oh, sorry, Seb.” Peter rustled the paper. “But you know how it goes: the early bird gets the worm, and all. There might be a few scraps left in the kitchen.”
With a sigh, Sebastian set his teacup aside and quit the room in search of the kitchen.
He stifled a yawn. He hadn’t nabbed a wink ofsleep the other night, he was so restless. Had the baron changed the bed since his last visit? Sebastian didn’t think so; the bed looked the same. But something was keeping him awake.
He moved through the house to the servant stairwell and strutted down the dark steps.
It was a large underground system of tunnels, leading to the kitchen, all lit by candlelight.
“Rot!” Her eyes sparked, a dark fire burning in the bronze pools. “I think you flourish at a great many things, my lord, and I wish you’d share your accomplishments with me. We are friends, after all.”
Sebastian glowered at her, not really sure what to make of her request. If only he could think straight. But with the girl’s elfin fingers caressing his waist, stirring a fiery storm in his belly, there wasn’t much chance of that happening.
Brushing her palm away from his midriff, Sebastian set it atop his shoulder—where it belonged.
Belatedly he realized that wasn’t a very wise move, for now his hand would have to go on her waist. Bloody hell.
“Miss Ashby?” he said with firm purpose.
“Yes, my lord.”
And that was another thing. What the deuce did she mean by calling him “my lord” and “Ravenswood” at every turn? It’d been a quaint diversion the first night of his return, but now it was a bloody distraction to hear her call him by his title. He had the feeling the girl was funning with him each time she used the appellation.
“Ravenswood?”
He blinked. “What?”
“You had something to say to me, I believe.”
That’s right, he did. He had a great many things to say to her. Why aren’t you married yet? for one. And What the devil has come over you? for another. “Is that jasmine I smell?”
“Why, yes, my lord. Do you like it?”
Like it? He could wallow in it. It was his favorite scent. Not that he’d ever told the girl so. Certainly not. It was a mere coincidence she was wearing the one fragrance that could make his head spin.
Devil take it, that’s not what he wanted to talk to her about. “Miss Ashby—”
“Do you realize you’ve not stumbled once, my lord?”
Sebastian reflected upon her words. She was right, he hadn’t.
“You are a very good teacher, Miss Ashby.”
“Rubbish. You’re just not that poor a skater.”
No, he was a very poor skater, which made the balancing act all the more mystifying.
“You’ve misplaced your confidence in me, Miss Ashby.”
Slowly she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Sebastian watched the gentle sway of her locks, a dark auburn in hue. Her curls were tucked beneath a fetching fur cap, a few stray tendrils bouncing with each twirl on the ice.
She really did look like a snow faerie, so whimsical and fearless. Her bright eyes gleamed with laughter and life. And for just a moment, he could see himself in the honey brown pools. It alarmed him.
“It’s getting dark,” she said softly, her russet red lashes fluttering. “We should head back to the house.”
She broke away from the embrace and skated to the pond’s edge, leaving Sebastian feeling curiously cold in the center of the ice.
Chapter 7
A disgruntled Sebastian made his way through the house and scowled. Henrietta’s penchant for tardiness was rubbing off on him, it seemed. He had snored right through breakfast!
Stifling a curse, he stepped into the dining parlor.
“Morning, Seb.” Peter was sitting alone in the room, reading a paper. “’Bout time you roused your sleepy head to join us.”
Sebastian ignored the quip and poured himself a cup of lukewarm tea. He was hungry, but the serving plates on the table were dusted with crumbs. He looked at his brother.
“Oh, sorry, Seb.” Peter rustled the paper. “But you know how it goes: the early bird gets the worm, and all. There might be a few scraps left in the kitchen.”
With a sigh, Sebastian set his teacup aside and quit the room in search of the kitchen.
He stifled a yawn. He hadn’t nabbed a wink ofsleep the other night, he was so restless. Had the baron changed the bed since his last visit? Sebastian didn’t think so; the bed looked the same. But something was keeping him awake.
He moved through the house to the servant stairwell and strutted down the dark steps.
It was a large underground system of tunnels, leading to the kitchen, all lit by candlelight.
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