The Makeshift Marriage Read Online Free Page B

sir.”
    “Perhaps. You excel at roast beef and plum pudding, but beyond that… . ” He shrugged. “Some good Austrian food would fatten you up.”
    “I have no wish to be fattened.”
    “No, maybe that is because you are perfect as you are.” He spoke this last softly and his eyes glittered as he raised his glass to her. His gaze moved slowly over the low neckline of her gown and in such a way as to make her feel he could see right through the delicate sprigged muslin.
    She flushed, wishing more and more that he would take the hint that he was not welcome. But he obviously had no intention of seeing what she made no attempt to disguise.
    “Such a tiny appetite cannot be healthy, Miss Milbanke.”
    “I did tell you that I wasn’t hungry,” she reminded him.
    “Ah, yes. So you did.” His eyes were half closed now and a smile played coolly around his lips. “Tell me, Miss Milbanke, are you well acquainted with Sir Nicholas Grenville?”
    She stared at him, taken aback by the change of subject. “And how would that concern you, sir?” she asked.
    “It was merely a pleasantry, Miss Milbanke, please do not think that I am prying.”
    But that is exactly what you are doing! she thought, but she did not say aloud. Deliberately she did not answer his question, thus forcing him to either drop the subject of Sir Nicholas Grenville, or to contradict his own words about prying by asking her again. A flame of anger burned in his intense eyes for a moment at her stubborn silence, but then it had gone and he was smiling again.
    “Will you dine with me tonight, Miss Milbanke?”
    “I —I cannot, Baron, for I have already accepted an invitation to dine with Sir Nicholas,” she said swiftly, willing herself to meet his gaze as if she spoke only the truth.
    “Then I must concede victory to Sir Nicholas. For the moment,” he said smoothly.
    She stood, determined to bring the meal to a close.
    “May I be of any further assistance to you?” he asked. “I could procure a gondola for you perhaps…?”
    “Yes,” she said quickly, “yes, that would be most kind of you.”
    He stood, tossing some coins on to the table and putting on his shako.
    The walk back to the canal seemed endless, with the baron determined to conduct a conversation with her. She answered in monosyllables. Drat the man, why did he not take the hint? His skin must be thicker than an elephant’s!
    At last she was free of him. The gondola nudged out into the canal and she looked back at him as he stood on the steps where people thronged the merchandise stalls on the quayside. She sat back beneath the felze with a sigh of relief. But what could she do now? She had got herself into a tiresome fix and somehow must now contrive to sit with the odious Sir Nicholas this evening. But how? She could not be certain that she would automatically be taken to the same table again —she could not even be certain that Sir Nicholas would take his dinner at the hotel!
    Her problem seemed all the more insurmountable when she and Sir Nicholas happened to arrive back at the Hotel Contarini at the same time. He disembarked from his gondola without giving her a glance, even though she knew perfectly well that he was aware of her presence. He seemed preoccupied, however, and she noticed that the account book was under his arm as he went into the hotel. She could not forgive him, though, no matter how preoccupied he was. What a truly disagreeable fellow he was, quite the most rude and infuriating of men! Why, oh why had she been foolish enough to fib about dining with him? She could have invented something a little more easy to carry out, but instead she had resorted to this, and now must face the consequences. At all costs she wished to avoid the baron, whose company was just a little more unpleasant than Sir Nicholas’s. Yes, Sir Nicholas Grenville was definitely the lesser of two evils as far as she was concerned.
    Entering the hotel, she heard the band beginning to tune