Teena Thyme Read Online Free Page A

my stomach contract, go cold, turn a slow somersault and then try to vacate my body through a part of it that no lady should ever mention in polite company. And, as I already said, I know all about being a lady.
    I also know all about not being a lady, too, and who says you're polite company anyway? So, all right, I nearly soiled my new knickers and, if it hadn't been for the timely intervention of Mr Swann, who's obvious previous experiences of traumatised females had led him to secrete a bottle of brandy and a glass within easy reach, I think I would have passed out.
    A generous double measure of Hennessy Cognac coursed its velvet way down my frozen throat and then I heard myself let out a long, low groan. No, not of pain; it was just a reaction and, a moment later, it was all I could do to stop myself from jumping up on Mr Swann's two hundred year old desk, platform-soled boots and all and dancing around, screaming: "I'm rich! I'm rich!"
    Very unladylike.
     
    She heard him approaching from afar, the sound of his heavy measured stride reverberating along the passageway and, when he paused before entering, it was all Angelina could do to prevent herself from trying to look round. Her small jaw set firm, she closed her eyes and kept herself pressed tightly against the wooden rack.
    'You seem very quiet now, my little spitfire,' he drawled, and there was no mistaking the mockery in his voice. 'The benefits of a spell of solitude, no doubt.'
    Angelina made no reply, neither did she open her eyes, but she could picture him clearly in her mind: the languid posture, the broad shoulders, with the tightly cut jacket emphasising every muscle, the close fitting breeches and, probably, his favourite riding boots. His face, however, suddenly refused to form itself clearly in her head.
    She could see the shock of black hair plainly enough, with the unruly curl that perpetually flopped across his brow, but below that his features seemed to swim in a mist, so that even his square and arrogant jaw seemed to be dissolving into a constantly shifting mist.
    'Still nothing to say?' he said, and she heard his boots sound twice upon the floor as he moved further into the room. Angelina swallowed hard and clenched her teeth. 'I see,' he said again. 'Then perhaps a proper and fulsome lesson is in order.
    'Madame,' he continued, taking yet another step closer to her, 'your reticence and feigned innocence have become very tiresome to me and the prospect of the dowry offered by your guardian cannot compensate for the icy aspect you have continued to present.
    'God knows that I have tried everything and have been patience personified, but your pretended saintliness has finally cracked my resolve. You shall be my wife and you will learn that I am the master in this house. And do not for one moment think that your guardian will come to your aid in this matter.
    'Indeed, I think - nay, I know, madame - that Lord Pickering will be only too relieved to be shot of you as a responsibility. His fortunes, of late, have suffered and the merest hint from myself that I would accept a smaller dowry to take you off his hands would be more than enough to stifle whatever might remain of his scruples.'
    'You think that money is the answer to everything,' Angelina snapped, unable to maintain her silence any longer. 'Well, sir, I tell you this. There is not enough gold in the world to buy what you expect from me. I would rather rot in Hell.'
    'Boldly said,' Hacklebury chuckled, 'but perhaps you would not be so willing if you truly knew what Hell was. Mayhap I shall give you a glimpse, albeit of a hell that is of this world. I think,' he continued, his voice suddenly sounding unnaturally hard, 'that I should have done so these many weeks past.'
     
    Mum went one better than me when I broke the news to her and dad, later that day. She fainted, but then she was sitting in that big old armchair of hers, so she didn't come to any harm and, following Mr Swann's example, I had