A Reckless Promise Read Online Free Page B
Author: Kasey Michaels
shoulders.
The door opened and closed again, and Sadie was alone with Darby Travers, the man who held Marleyâs fate in his hands, even if heâd yet to know that, and wouldnât, not until she was assured the man wasnât planning to wriggle out of his new responsibility.
She decided to prove her relationship to John before the man could repeat his earlier suspicions, spoken of so jokingly at their first, unfortunate meeting.
âJohn told me much about you, my lord, and those days in that horrible camp. You, and your friends, and so many more fine English soldiers, all the victims of the consequences of inferior leadership. How are the others, if I might inquire? Captains Sinclair, Rigby and Cooper Townsend, the latter injured in the same battle as Your Lordship. John said you four were close as inkle weavers and always ripe for adventure. He seemed to swell with pride at having known you. May I be seated?â
There. Now she could only hope that mentioning the names of his friends carried any weight for him in proving she was who she said she was. Or had she been too obvious?
She sat down before he could answer, moving the quilted pillow out of the way. The satin was still warm to the touch, and smelled faintly of the same shaving soap her brother had favored. She resisted an urge to clasp it close to her chest, as a sort of protection.
Sheâd already noticed that the man really didnât look well, certainly not displaying the same vibrant presence heâd projected earlier. His complexion was rather pale now beneath a healthy tan, his hair a bit ruffled, as if heâd been running his fingers through it, or perhaps massaging his head.
He had the headache, perhaps? A lingering reminder of his wound? She felt some pity for him, but wasnât so silly that she didnât see the advantage could temporarily reside in her corner during what would probably turn out to be a sparring match between them. With luck, whatever ailed him would put him off his game, as John had told her the viscount was wickedly intelligent, witty and didnât suffer fools gladly. Her brother had admired the man, his courage and even self-deprecating humor in the face of his terrible injury.
âTheyâre all in good health, thank you for asking. We were all quite fond of John, and saddened to hear of his death.â Lord Nailbourne didnât retake his seat, choosing instead to lean against the front of an ancient carved desk some feet distant from the couch.
What was the protocol in duels? Ten paces, then stop, turn and fire? Sadie could feel the tension in the room, and wondered if it was all coming from her, as the dratted man still seemed very much at his ease.
Well or in pain, he was a handsome man, possibly made even more so by the eye patch, and his height would have been intimidating to most. Sadie gave a quick thank-you to her parents, who had combined to make her the empowering height she was. If sheâd been a petite thing, she might feel completely overwhelmed and overmatched by the man. In truth, she still would have felt more than slightly intimidated, save for the quilt marks on his right cheek, which made him seem more human. Rather like a young boy, playing dress-up.
She wasnât sure now what sheâd been expecting, as John had never mentioned the viscountâs age, but it was clear he still lacked a few years before he was on the shady side of thirty. So young, and yet one of the wealthiest men in England, with all the benefits and burdens that sort of thing entailed.
And now sheâd added to his responsibilities.
âMy lord,â she began, searching for the correct words to show she knew of the imposition John had placed on him, but he stopped her simply by raising his hand.
âForgive me for doubting your identity earlier.â
That sounded rather like a demand, but she was too relieved to challenge him.
âI looked at the letter again, and clearly
The door opened and closed again, and Sadie was alone with Darby Travers, the man who held Marleyâs fate in his hands, even if heâd yet to know that, and wouldnât, not until she was assured the man wasnât planning to wriggle out of his new responsibility.
She decided to prove her relationship to John before the man could repeat his earlier suspicions, spoken of so jokingly at their first, unfortunate meeting.
âJohn told me much about you, my lord, and those days in that horrible camp. You, and your friends, and so many more fine English soldiers, all the victims of the consequences of inferior leadership. How are the others, if I might inquire? Captains Sinclair, Rigby and Cooper Townsend, the latter injured in the same battle as Your Lordship. John said you four were close as inkle weavers and always ripe for adventure. He seemed to swell with pride at having known you. May I be seated?â
There. Now she could only hope that mentioning the names of his friends carried any weight for him in proving she was who she said she was. Or had she been too obvious?
She sat down before he could answer, moving the quilted pillow out of the way. The satin was still warm to the touch, and smelled faintly of the same shaving soap her brother had favored. She resisted an urge to clasp it close to her chest, as a sort of protection.
Sheâd already noticed that the man really didnât look well, certainly not displaying the same vibrant presence heâd projected earlier. His complexion was rather pale now beneath a healthy tan, his hair a bit ruffled, as if heâd been running his fingers through it, or perhaps massaging his head.
He had the headache, perhaps? A lingering reminder of his wound? She felt some pity for him, but wasnât so silly that she didnât see the advantage could temporarily reside in her corner during what would probably turn out to be a sparring match between them. With luck, whatever ailed him would put him off his game, as John had told her the viscount was wickedly intelligent, witty and didnât suffer fools gladly. Her brother had admired the man, his courage and even self-deprecating humor in the face of his terrible injury.
âTheyâre all in good health, thank you for asking. We were all quite fond of John, and saddened to hear of his death.â Lord Nailbourne didnât retake his seat, choosing instead to lean against the front of an ancient carved desk some feet distant from the couch.
What was the protocol in duels? Ten paces, then stop, turn and fire? Sadie could feel the tension in the room, and wondered if it was all coming from her, as the dratted man still seemed very much at his ease.
Well or in pain, he was a handsome man, possibly made even more so by the eye patch, and his height would have been intimidating to most. Sadie gave a quick thank-you to her parents, who had combined to make her the empowering height she was. If sheâd been a petite thing, she might feel completely overwhelmed and overmatched by the man. In truth, she still would have felt more than slightly intimidated, save for the quilt marks on his right cheek, which made him seem more human. Rather like a young boy, playing dress-up.
She wasnât sure now what sheâd been expecting, as John had never mentioned the viscountâs age, but it was clear he still lacked a few years before he was on the shady side of thirty. So young, and yet one of the wealthiest men in England, with all the benefits and burdens that sort of thing entailed.
And now sheâd added to his responsibilities.
âMy lord,â she began, searching for the correct words to show she knew of the imposition John had placed on him, but he stopped her simply by raising his hand.
âForgive me for doubting your identity earlier.â
That sounded rather like a demand, but she was too relieved to challenge him.
âI looked at the letter again, and clearly
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