The Best Man's Bridesmaid Read Online Free Page B

form-fitting coat, and discarded his cravat. Then, after careful considerations, he had used the jack to remove his boots. It had pained him to use it. His valet’s distress would be equal to his ire when he saw the scuff marks the jack has created. For not the first time he wondered why Stebbins opinion mattered more than his father’s? Perhaps, because he had a more honest relationship with Stebbins than he did with his parent? His valet certainly understood him better. Charlie looked once more at the clock; to his dismay a mere two more minutes had passed his last perusal. Idly he wondered whether to go into the games room and pot a few balls. The pictures conjured up by the words games and balls made him decide that wasn’t a good idea. Instead, he resumed his pacing as the grandfather clock in the hall struck the quarter hour. He hoped she wouldn’t be late.
    For heaven’s sake, she has minutes still before she is tardy. Control your enthusiasm.
    A tapping on the French window made him jump. He turned on his heel and strode briskly to it, to draw back the curtain. A figure in a black cloak, the hood drawn well over the face, stood there. Caroline? He hoped so.
    In the back of his mind was a vague memory of another lady, dressed in a similar fashion. It teased at his memory as he unlatched the window and opened it wide to let her enter. As she removed the cloak, any thoughts he had been harboring immediately left him. All he could do was gape at the vision in front of him.
    “Maybe you should,” she remarked as she gestured to the open window. He hurried to close it and the heavy drapes before he turned to rest his hands on her shoulders and take her cloak from her. And once more stared!
    ***
    Caroline was well satisfied with his reaction. She had put considerable thought into what to wear, and it seemed her considerations had paid off. Her dress, simple in its design was of the palest pink, drawing out the russet highlights of her hair. That shone and shimmered in the firelight and as was her usual preference, lay loose and waving to her waist. The front was covered in a fine, skin-colored net, cleverly designed so that at first glance it was difficult to ascertain which was dress and which was skin. Her sole item of jewelry was a long strand of pearls, which reached past her waist and rested at the top of her legs, drawing his eyes downward. As she moved, the cut and color of her gown made it seem she was hardly dressed at all, although on a second look, her attire was decorous in the extreme.
    “Clever,” Charlie admired. “You hint, you tease, you entice in that garment. You make me itch to see what is under it.”
    “That, my lord, is its intention.” she said with a sang-froid she hoped he admired. “Whether your itch will be scratched remains to be seen.”
    “Oh, it will very definitely be scratched,” he replied assuredly. “The single fact to be determined is when and where. But it will be satisfied. And by you.” He took her hand. “I think in the circumstances, we will remove to my private sitting room. Aunt Sophia is still out, and although it is normal for her to retire the moment she returns home, we will take no chances. Her sitting room and bedroom are in no way near mine. Come.” He led her not to the door, but to the paneling alongside the fireplace. As he bent a little to touch a rosette carved in the wood, the firelight glinted on his blond hair. He really is handsome. Caroline admired the way his buttocks fit in his pantaloons and the outline of his torso outlined under the fine lawn of his shirt. Not to mention the way his thighs moved as he walked. The words taught and tight entered her mind and stayed firmly put.
    “One moment. There,” he said, as the wood swung aside. “Let me light the candles. Just follow me.”
    Caroline was entranced. “A secret passage? Is your house so old that this was needed?”
    “Only for assignations,” he said drily as he preceded her up the