A Taste of Seduction (An Unlikely Husband) Read Online Free Page A

pounding in her ear could warm her. His words made no sense, scattering about her like errant raindrops, falling to nothingness as they touched her ears.
    She blinked hard but the tears continued to fall , soft, silent, and unstoppable.

Chapter 3
     
    Francie jostled from side to side as the rented carriage rolled down the road. She grabbed the edges of the worn seat to steady herself. Good heavens, what a contraption! It would be amazing if they reached their destination without a broken bone or some other mishap. A red curl escaped from her bonnet, springing halfway down her nose. She swiped at it, tucked it away, and straightened the bonnet for the seventh time since they’d begun their journey.
    “We might as well be riding horses bareback,” Francie said to her uncle, planting her feet on the floor of the carriage and leaning forward. Anything to prevent hitting her head again.
    “When you’re at Drakemoor, Montrose will see you ride in nothing less than a carriage bearing his crest.” He gave her a gentle smile. “As you deserve.”
    “I’m sorry, Uncle Bernard. Please excuse my thoughtlessness.”
    “All will be well, child. Soon.”
    Francie squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. A blasted headache threatened. The third in as many days. She leaned further away from the lumpy, faded emerald squabs and wished she’d never heard of Lord Montrose or Drakemoor.
    The carriage rolled on, closing in on a destiny she could no longer avoid. And she’d tried. For three days, she’d waged a firm, steady battle of wills against her aunt and uncle, posing questions she was certain would make them reconsider their insistence to send her to Drakemoor.
    But to no avail. And so, with great misgivings and a multitude of questions swimming in her head, Francie packed a small satchel and readied herself. She wasn’t staying, so there was no need to select more than one other gown. Not that she owned more than a handful that would be presentable in public. Most were either too short, or too tight, or too worn, and Aunt Eleanor hadn’t the time to make the appropriate alterations. Dress and style never concerned Francie. She’d much rather bury her head in a book or wander the fields collecting sweet-smelling herbs and flowers.
    “We should be there in just a few minutes.”
    Her uncle’s voice brought her out of her musings. She opened her eyes and looked down at her blue muslin gown. A visiting gown, Aunt Eleanor called it. Cerulean, like the sky on a warm summer’s day. It matched her eyes and the wide ribbon that bound the annoying mass of red curls at the nape of her neck.
    “You look beautiful,” Uncle Bernard said in a low, soft voice.
    Francie smoothed her gown and picked one of George’s hairs from her sleeve. “You know I’ve never cared about such things.”
    “Which makes you all the more beautiful. You are a rare find, a diamond among a heap of rocks. Montrose will need to protect you from the vultures of polite society.”
    She wanted to tell him Lord Montrose needn’t protect her from anyone because she wasn’t staying. Not for long anyway. Her purpose for meeting Lord Montrose was twofold. First, she wanted to ask him how a man could love a woman to distraction and never know she bore him a child.
    Next, she would request his assistance in her village’s battle against Jared Crayton. Perhaps the Montrose wealth and power could stop the duke’s son from ruining the lives of more young women. She’d take his words, and if fortune were with her, his support and promises to protect her village.
    And then she would leave.
    ***
    The quiet rap on Alexander Bishop’s door surprised him. No one ever interrupted him in his study. It was his rule. Not unless Philip needed him or there was a dire emergency, like a fire in the kitchen or a band of marauders in the foyer.
    “Yes?” He looked toward the oak door, curious as to the nature of the intrusion.
    “Excuse me, sir. So sorry to