Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 04] - Love's Duet Read Online Free Page B

Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 04] - Love's Duet
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tossed
the dirty papers on to a sofa of brocaded cream satin, and crossed to
the fireplace, well aware of the cry of rage that had burst from her
companion. Her depredations were incomplete, however. Her hand left a
blur of mud along the pristine mantle even as a tiny but very muddy
shoe gratifyingly sullied the hitherto immaculate brass rail before the
fire.
    "You, madam, are a full-fledged disaster!" came that irate voice
behind her. "We've no need for a maid who ignores requests and in one
minute desecrates an entire room! That I can assure you."
    It was apparent there had been a misunderstanding, but how dared
this arrogant upstart use that tone with her? She put back her hood and
gave a shake of her lovely head. The gleaming ringlets did not bounce
softly on to her shoulders, as expected. The gleaming ringlets were, in
fact, one wet straggle. Raising an exploratory hand, she realised too
late that it was muddy and began to form an unhappy estimate of her
appearance. Ignoring the Creature, who had dropped to one knee before
the sofa and was scanning his sheets of music with anxious intensity,
she sought in her reticule for her small mirror. It revealed her
appearance to be even more shocking than she'd anticipated. She went
swiftly to work and, when her repairs were completed, turned again to
her busily occupied companion.
    His wet hair still sent occasional trickles of water down his face.
His skin was bronzed by the sun—not at all the thing! The white shirt
clung wetly to broad shoulders that tapered to a very trim waist, and
his muddied grey breeches revealed slim hips and long legs.
    Disposing herself beside the fireplace, Sophia waited for him to get
his first real look at her. The wait became interminable. With growing
indignation, she realized that he had completely forgotten her, "If
there is a butler in this asylum," she said haughtily, "be so good as
to summon him."
    "You'll find him in the kitchen."
    She tensed with rage. A china figurine—the charming but inexpensive
replica of a boy and a dog—was closest. She took it up and dropped it
into the hearth.
    The servant's head shot around. His eyes widened predictably as he saw the fragmented china.
    "I gave you an order," she nodded. "I do not care to be kept waiting."
    "Do you not?" In two long strides, he was much closer than she
appreciated. "Well, I strive never to keep a lady waiting— especially
so eager a chit." He seized her by the shoulders, bent, and kissed her,
long and hard.
    The Drayton sometimes allowed her fingertips to be lightly kissed,
but aside from her immediate family, no man had ever been permitted to
kiss her on the lips. For an instant, she was so stunned she didn't
move. His hands gripped her shoulders like iron bands. He smelled of
rain and wet earth and shaving soap, with no trace of pomade or
perfume. Her eyes shot open. 'Good God! What am I doing?' She groped
back, found the fireplace tongs, and swung them upward. A crystal vase
toppled from the mantle and joined the ex-figurine.
    "Hey!" Long fingers closed about her wrist, and he laughed down at
her as he took possession of the tongs. She was pale, her great violet
eyes flashing with rage. Awe crept into his expression, to be replaced
by shock as her open palm cracked across his cheek so hard that a lock
of hair was bounced down his brow.
    "Filthy…lecherous…brute!" Sophia wiped her mouth fiercely. "My brother will kill you for that!"
    "While I await death," he said, an infuriating quirk tugging at the
side of his mouth, "I'll have you taken home." He crossed to pull on
the bellrope and, turning back, touched his glowing cheek thoughtfully
and stared at her stomach.
    Sophia glanced down. Her cloak had fallen open. Her new brown travelling gown was very muddied, and she gave a distressed wail.
    "I told you I would buy you another dress," he said with an uneasy surveillance of that modish gown.
    "So you did. That will be one hundred and thirty-five guineas, if you

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