Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 03] by Dangerous Illusions Read Free Book Online Page A

the drawing room, Papa,” Daintry said evenly, but she turned so sharply to lead the way that her cloak swirled out, and then, glancing back over her shoulder, she said matter-of-factly, “You might as well be warned from the outset, Lord Penthorpe, that I have been betrothed three times before now, only to cry off each time before the wedding.”
    St. Merryn caught her by the arm and swung her around, giving her a rough shake. “You’ll not cry off this time, by God, and don’t you forget it. Upon my word, girl, I’ve had enough!”
    Gideon, knowing he had not the least right to interfere between man and daughter, still had to fight an instinctive urge to do so. He watched, feeling no surprise when she stiffened and the light of defiance leapt to her eyes again. What did surprise him, however, was that when she glared at her father, St. Merryn released her. Not until then did she say grimly, “I promised you I would not cry off, Papa, but as you have frequently said yourself, he has every right to know the worst of me.”
    “Yes, to be sure, he has every right,” St. Merryn blustered, “but if you are hoping he’ll cry off himself, now he’s learned of your nonsense, you wrong him, girl. Penthorpe is a gentleman.”
    Conscious of the fact that he was behaving in anything but a gentlemanly way, Gideon resisted an impulse to compound the matter by pretending outrage and demanding to hear the details of every broken betrothal. There was something about the girl that made him want to provoke her, to stir her passions. That there were passions to be stirred, and not far beneath the surface, was obvious to the meanest intelligence. He could see that her father had quite failed to tame her, and he had a strong itch to attempt the feat himself. That it would be a challenge was clear, but he had never been a man to run from a challenge.
    They had come to a pair of double doors at the end of the gallery, and Daintry pushed them open, saying lightly as she did so, “Here is a surprise for all of you. Lord Penthorpe has arrived. You may all wish me happy, I suppose.”
    St. Merryn said testily, “That is no way to introduce a gentleman to your mama. If you cannot do the thing properly, say nothing at all and I will do the honors. Come in, Penthorpe.”
    Finding himself facing what seemed at first like a roomful of women, but all unknown, Gideon breathed a sigh of relief, for it had occurred to him only as he crossed the threshold that he might easily encounter someone he knew. His home was near enough Tuscombe Park that they must have several local acquaintances in common, and the utter lunacy of what he was doing struck him with incredible force. A fine soldier you are, he thought sourly. Just pure dumb luck you didn’t walk straight into an ambush.
    His gaze lighted on the most formidable of what proved to be only four females, a square-shaped elderly lady with gray hair pulled ruthlessly into a bun at the nape of her neck. Not only did she not smile at hearing Penthorpe’s name, but her pale blue eyes narrowed speculatively and the look she gave him was much the same one she might have employed to search out rats in her pantry. He had difficulty returning that look, and he had the odd notion that, in the brief moment before he shifted his gaze to the next lady, the first had seen straight into his soul.
    The plump one hovering over the sofa clasped her hands at her bosom and exclaimed, “Oh, goodness me, a true English hero!”
    St. Merryn snapped, “Don’t be a fool, Ethelinda! Pay her no heed, Penthorpe. My wife,” he added, indicating the thin, mouse-haired lady reclining on the sofa. “Letty, dear, I present your future son-in-law. Have the goodness not to have a fit of the vapors till he knows you better. I’ve no tolerance for it now.”
    “Or ever,” the old lady said, adding abruptly when Gideon glanced back at her, “You say you are Penthorpe, young man?”
    Totally unable to lie in the teeth of that