All About Passion by Stephanie Laurens Read Free Book Online

reached the other side of the lake and she paused to admire a tree and ask him what sort he thought it might be, did he realize he hadn't been attending. He covered the gaffe easily—the tree was a birch; after that, he paid more attention. Only to discover that his intended was, indeed, the perfect choice for his needs. Her voice was airy and light, not smoky and sultry; it held no power to capture his thoughts. She was sweet and demure and unexciting—
    he spent more time looking at the spaniels than at her.
    If he'd been walking with the gypsy, he'd have tripped over the spaniels. Shaking his head—wishing he could shake all images of the witch out of it, especially the taunting visions mat had kept him awake half the night—he hauled his mind back to the young lady presently by his side.
    She evoked not the smallest spark of sexual interest; the contrast between her and her Italian companion could not have been more marked. She was precisely what he needed as his amenable bride—a young lady who aroused his passionate nature not at all. Doing his duty would be easy enough; siring a child or two on her would be no great feat. She might not be a beauty, but she was passable, unassuming, and likable enough. If she would accept his proposal, accept him without love, they would deal well enough together.
    Meanwhile, given the gypsy and his bride were friends, it might be wise to ascertain the depth of their friendship before he seduced the gypsy. The thought of some grand emotional scene between himself and his wife because he had her friend in keeping was the closest thing to anathema he'd ever imagined, yet he doubted it would come to that. Who knew? Their friendship might even thrive; such arrangements were not unknown in the ton.
    That niggling warning sounded again in his mind; this time, he paid it more heed. It would be wise to play safe with the gypsy, at least until he had his wife and his life secured as he wanted them. The gypsy was wild and unpredictable. Until his marriage was fact, he'd steer clear of her temptation. As before, he left his bride-to-be at the parterre. She accepted his departure with a smile, displaying no inclination to cling or demand more of his time. Entirely satisfied with his choice, Gyles headed for the stables.
    Josh was waiting; he ran to get the chestnut. Gyles looked around. Then Josh was back. Gyles took his time mounting, dallying as long as he could before he cantered down the drive and turned into the lane to Lyndhurst.
    He'd just decided to avoid the witch—it would be illogical to feel disappointed at not seeing her. Then he did, and his heart leapt. She was a flash of graceful movement deep in a deserted ride. Before he'd thought, he'd loosed the chestnut's reins and was pounding after her. She slowed at the end of the ride, debating which of two paths to take, then she heard the thud of the chestnut's hooves and glanced back.
    A smile spread across her face, on a changing spectrum that traveled from welcoming to glorious. With an exuberant laugh, she flashed him a look of blatant challenge, then plunged down the nearest path. Gyles followed.
    The chestnut he was on was an excellent beast, but the grey she was riding was better. He rode heavier, too, and didn't know the paths she flung her mount down with such alacrity. But he kept doggedly on in her wake, knowing that, eventually, she'd let him catch her.
    She glanced back at him as they thundered beneath the trees; he caught a glimpse of her teasing smile. The feather in her scrap of a cap waved as she bobbed and weaved, expertly shifting as the grey took each curve at speed.
    Then they burst from the forest into a wide meadow bounded only by more trees. With a "Whoop!" Gyles let his reins fall and rode the big chestnut hands and knees, urging him on. They gained on the flying gypsy. Although she rode fast, he was relieved to note that she held the grey in. The massive hunter had to be one of Charles's mounts, bred for