Read Online Tori Phillips by Midsummer's Knight - Free Book Online
Authors: Midsummer's Knight
Ads: Link
that later. “And you swear that my cousin need not fear that Sir Brandon will spend her fortune at cards and other wagers?”
Sir John placed his hand over his breast. “Upon my heart and soul, I do swear...for him, that is. My...friend comes from a wealthy family in Northumberland, and he is well provided. Cards do not hold him in their thrall, as they do many others—such as your cousin’s knavish nephew.”
Kat cocked her head. “How now? I...and my cousin have not heard this tale before. Pray, enlighten me, Sir John.”
Another giggle pierced the warm afternoon. Sir John curled his lips in disgust. “Let us walk the garden paths, Mistress Miranda. I fear that so much billing and cooing between yon lovebirds is very distracting to my thoughts.” He offered her his arm.
“Gladly, Sir John.” Kat slipped her hand around his elbow. Under his green velvet sleeve, she felt the strength of his muscles. For a moment, she imagined herself enfolded in his strong embrace. Her mouth went suddenly dry.
They passed through an opening of the yew hedge into the intricate knot garden. The crushed shells of the pathways crunched under their feet as they paced out the geometric design of the trimmed boxwood plantings.
“You spoke of Fen...young Sir Scantling, my lord?” Kat prompted, after the archery range was out of sight and sound.
“Aye, mistress. Pardon my bluntness, but he is an asshead.”
Sir John’s muscles tightened a little under Kat’s fingertips. She wondered what the young fool had done to incur the wrath of so noble a lord as Sir John.
“You may speak plainly with me, my lord. I am not being wooed for my wedding day.” Not yet, thank God!
“You should be,” Sir John muttered under his breath. Then he cleared his throat and continued in a louder tone. “Scantling plays nightly at cards, dice or any other wager the courtiers might devise. Once he even bet upon the outcome of a louse race!”
Kat missed a step. Sir John’s hand steadied her. “By the book! Do you speak of a race between bugs?” she gasped.
Sir John’s lips twitched, and his eyes twinkled azure fire. “Aye, I do. And he lost even that one! He has the most rotten luck, and poorest judgment in the entire court. Your cousin is obviously not aware of it, Mistress Miranda, but she has been taken out of pocket for a great deal of money by that king of shreds and patches. Gambling is a sickness with him, and one that he will not throw off. He will beggar Lady Katherine’s entire estate within a twelvemonth, unless I can...” Sir John pressed his lips into a thin, hard line.
Kat gripped his sleeve, bunching the rich material between her fingers. She found it extremely difficult to make disinterested conversation. God shield her! What a dithering fool she had been! How Fenton must have laughed each time she sent him yet another letter of credit to her goldsmith on London Bridge!
“Mistress Miranda?” Sir John murmured in her ear. “You have turned quite pale. Forgive me for being the bearer of bad tidings.”
Kat shook her head. “Nay, Sir John, have no fear on my account. You do not know it, but you have done me a good service. I am in your debt. ’Tis better that you tell me of Fenton’s perfidy, than to tell my cousin. She is a gentle creature, and would likely faint at the news.” Kat looked up into Sir John’s eyes, warmed by the depths of concern she saw there. “I am made of sterner stuff.”
“So I perceive, sweet Miranda.” He leaned over her, blotting out the late afternoon sun. “And I salute you for it.”
Brushing his lips against hers, he took her wholly by surprise. His kiss imparted a velvet warmth that left her mouth burning and her body quivering for more.
“Sir John,” she murmured, standing on tiptoe.
“Aye,” he growled. His lips nibbled her earlobe. “‘Tis a name I wear like a hat on a holiday, but ’twill suffice for now. Let me drink from you again, and we’ll take tomorrow when it
Sir John placed his hand over his breast. “Upon my heart and soul, I do swear...for him, that is. My...friend comes from a wealthy family in Northumberland, and he is well provided. Cards do not hold him in their thrall, as they do many others—such as your cousin’s knavish nephew.”
Kat cocked her head. “How now? I...and my cousin have not heard this tale before. Pray, enlighten me, Sir John.”
Another giggle pierced the warm afternoon. Sir John curled his lips in disgust. “Let us walk the garden paths, Mistress Miranda. I fear that so much billing and cooing between yon lovebirds is very distracting to my thoughts.” He offered her his arm.
“Gladly, Sir John.” Kat slipped her hand around his elbow. Under his green velvet sleeve, she felt the strength of his muscles. For a moment, she imagined herself enfolded in his strong embrace. Her mouth went suddenly dry.
They passed through an opening of the yew hedge into the intricate knot garden. The crushed shells of the pathways crunched under their feet as they paced out the geometric design of the trimmed boxwood plantings.
“You spoke of Fen...young Sir Scantling, my lord?” Kat prompted, after the archery range was out of sight and sound.
“Aye, mistress. Pardon my bluntness, but he is an asshead.”
Sir John’s muscles tightened a little under Kat’s fingertips. She wondered what the young fool had done to incur the wrath of so noble a lord as Sir John.
“You may speak plainly with me, my lord. I am not being wooed for my wedding day.” Not yet, thank God!
“You should be,” Sir John muttered under his breath. Then he cleared his throat and continued in a louder tone. “Scantling plays nightly at cards, dice or any other wager the courtiers might devise. Once he even bet upon the outcome of a louse race!”
Kat missed a step. Sir John’s hand steadied her. “By the book! Do you speak of a race between bugs?” she gasped.
Sir John’s lips twitched, and his eyes twinkled azure fire. “Aye, I do. And he lost even that one! He has the most rotten luck, and poorest judgment in the entire court. Your cousin is obviously not aware of it, Mistress Miranda, but she has been taken out of pocket for a great deal of money by that king of shreds and patches. Gambling is a sickness with him, and one that he will not throw off. He will beggar Lady Katherine’s entire estate within a twelvemonth, unless I can...” Sir John pressed his lips into a thin, hard line.
Kat gripped his sleeve, bunching the rich material between her fingers. She found it extremely difficult to make disinterested conversation. God shield her! What a dithering fool she had been! How Fenton must have laughed each time she sent him yet another letter of credit to her goldsmith on London Bridge!
“Mistress Miranda?” Sir John murmured in her ear. “You have turned quite pale. Forgive me for being the bearer of bad tidings.”
Kat shook her head. “Nay, Sir John, have no fear on my account. You do not know it, but you have done me a good service. I am in your debt. ’Tis better that you tell me of Fenton’s perfidy, than to tell my cousin. She is a gentle creature, and would likely faint at the news.” Kat looked up into Sir John’s eyes, warmed by the depths of concern she saw there. “I am made of sterner stuff.”
“So I perceive, sweet Miranda.” He leaned over her, blotting out the late afternoon sun. “And I salute you for it.”
Brushing his lips against hers, he took her wholly by surprise. His kiss imparted a velvet warmth that left her mouth burning and her body quivering for more.
“Sir John,” she murmured, standing on tiptoe.
“Aye,” he growled. His lips nibbled her earlobe. “‘Tis a name I wear like a hat on a holiday, but ’twill suffice for now. Let me drink from you again, and we’ll take tomorrow when it
Similar Books
