Read Online Wickeds Scandal (The Wickeds) by Kathleen Ayers - Free Book Online Page A

curtly, “A pleasure, Miss Dunforth.”
    His long
legs, encased in leather riding breeches stretched out in front of him as he
leaned against the window.  The leather outlined his muscular thighs,
clung to them in fact, a bit indecently.   A blush stole up her
cheeks again.  She realized she was admiring him as one does a prize
stallion.  He caught her looking and raised an eyebrow.  Alexandra
lowered her eyes.  The man really was a conceited ass.
    “Miss
Dunforth was just telling us about her estate in Hampshire, Helmsby
Abbey.  She’s quite the gentleman farmer, Sutton.  You might learn a
thing or two from Miss Dunforth”, the Dowager boasted.
    Alexandra
sincerely doubted that Lord Reynolds gave a fig for managing an estate and
nearly said so to the room.  He likely had dozens of minions to do that
for him.  She wished she could march right over to him and tell him to
stop looking at her with his beautiful accusatory eyes.  Thankfully, at
least, he did not seem inclined to acknowledge their earlier meeting.
    “Indeed? 
Are you familiar with animal husbandry as well, Miss Dunforth?” Lord Reynolds
drawled the words.  His gaze slid over her breasts, as if he were
contemplating a delicious roast at a banquet, and deciding which prime cut to
slice off.
    He is a
horrid, arrogant man. A
spurt of heat ran through her.  Alexandra did not miss the innuendo,
although thankfully it looked like Miranda had.  She wasn’t sure about the
Dowager. 
    “I am, my
lord.”
    “I thought
as much.” Lord Reynolds smirked.  “You have that look about you – as
a gentleman farmer does.”
    Rude
insulting peacock.   
She knew she was plain, but she certainly didn’t look like a man ! 
His glance at her breasts should be enough to disprove that!  She wished
to leave before she marched over to him and gave him another set-down, though
he certainly deserved it.   The parlor grew warmer.
    “What else
have you ladies been discussing today?  Gowns I suspect and other
fripperies?”
    “Cam, don’t
goad me.”  Miranda looked as if she would throw a piece of the raisin cake
at him.  “We are not like your Lady Fellowes.  There’s a woman with
nothing but vacant space between her ears.  Her personality is that of a
potted plant.  A fern or some other dull shrub.”
    “Miranda!” 
The Dowager flinched and sounded stern, but her eyes laughed.
    Lord
Reynolds shook his finger at his sister.  “She is most definitely not my Lady Fellowes.” He didn’t appear chagrined with his sister in the
least.  Clearly, he and Miranda were very close.
    The Dowager
put one wrinkled hand to her forehead as if in pain. “I am thankful she is
not.  There are enough plants in this house.”
    ****
    Sutton shot
his grandmother an amused glance.  He knew of her dislike for Lady
Fellowes.  The Dowager made no secret of it.  He narrowed his eyes
and flicked an imaginary piece of lint off his sleeve as he surveyed the
sumptuous Miss Dunforth.  What in the world was she doing here?  The
lovely ivory skin of her face and neck flushed a delightful shade of red. 
The opal eyes flashed at him in disapproval along with an odd
vulnerability.  If his grandmother and sister hadn’t been present, he
would ravish Miss Dunforth on the settee. 
    Miss
Dunforth popped up in the most unlikely places.  Hiding behind curtains in
libraries.  His grandmother’s parlor.  Oddly enough, he’d visited his
grandmother today to ask if she knew Miss Dunforth.  And low and behold
here was the Badger. He told himself again that he was merely bored and that
Miss Dunforthintrigued him.    Perhaps that was it, he
thought with disdain as he looked at her severe coiffure. The chestnut curls
were sedately and unfortunately restrained.  Not even a tendril was
attempting to escape.  Pity.  The gown she wore was of good quality
but the colors muted and dull, almost as if she wished to fade into the shadows
of his grandmother’s parlor.  Her back