An Improper Lady (The Powder and Patch Collection) by Jane Godman Read Free Book Online Page B

self-mocking. “With me you are both of those things.”
    An over-enthusiastic reveller danced up to them holding aloft a sprig of mistletoe and eying Bella with interest. He ground to an abrupt halt when he saw the frosty look on Sir Peregrine’s face and, with a mumbled apology, drifted away.
    “Can we not continue this conversation elsewhere, somewhere less public?” Bella pleaded, placing a hand on Sir Peregrine’s arm. The coquettish smile - the one about which smitten suitors wrote sonnets - peeped out. “My bedchamber, perhaps?”
    He groaned, “You still do not see what I mean, do you? I want you so much it is driving me to the brink of insanity. ”
    “But why? When you must know you can have me!” she interrupted, her words throbbing with the intensity of her own emotions, “I could not state it – or show it - any more clearly than I have done already. I am yours, whenever, wherever!”
    His gaze devoured her. “God, do you have any idea how tempting you are?” He laughed. “What am I saying? Of course you do! But I am not insane, not yet, anyway. Making love to you would assuage my desire for you – temporarily! - but it won’t cure me of loving you!”
    He dashed off the contents of his wineglass, and stared morosely into the fire once more.
    “So, tell me, what do I have to do to get you into bed?” Bella purred, running a hand down his arm, and delighting in the feel of hitherto unsuspected muscle beneath her fingertips.
    “ I can think of only one thing,” he replied seriously, and Bella gave a little trill of pleasure at the prospect of his capitulation. It was finally going to happen!
    His leaned in close so that his breath touched her ear. “Marry me,” he whispered.
    With a little start of surprise, Bella realised he was serious. Without waiting for a response, he walked away.
     
    ***
     
    Sir Peregrine, dressed in impeccable but serviceable clothing, was just leaving the house as Bella descended the wide staircase. None of the other guests had yet left their bedchambers and the house was quiet. Sir Peregrine turned back as she said his name, adding, with a worried frown creasing her brow, “You are not leaving?”
    “ No, I am merely in need of a walk. The festivities have left me decidedly sluggish!” He paused. “Join me? Although Jack warns me that snow is forecast, so I suggest you wrap up warmly.”
    Bella hurried away to change her shoes and collect her cloak. They trudged in companionable silence along a rutted path and up a steep incline. When they reached the top, the view was of St. Anton Court slumbering in the valley below, surrounded by its moat and formal gardens. Jack’s land extended for miles in every direction, dotted here and there with rows of half-timbered cottages. The air was crisp and cold and their breath left streamers of condensation in its wake.
    “Who would have thought my dashing friend, Jack, would take so well to the life of the country squire?” Sir Peregrine wondered. He cast a sideways glance at Bella. “Shall you object if, once we are married, I do not follow his example? I am a confirmed city dweller, I fear. Prolonged exposure to haystacks makes me nauseous.”
    “ Do not make a joke of this, Sir Peregrine,” Bella said quietly. “You know full well I cannot marry you.”
    “ I thought as much,” he said with a sigh. “I must thank you, I suppose, for your honesty.”
    Her brow wrinkled in confusion, and he continued, “There can be only one reason for you to refuse me. You do not love me.”
    Bella was silent for a long, long time. “You know that is not true,” she said at last.
    He waited, watching the play of emotions across her face. “Why must it be marriage?” she asked, turning her head to look up at him, genuine puzzlement clouding her wide, dark eyes. “We can be lovers. If you take me as your mistress, I swear I will be faithful, and when you do marry another, I will make you no scenes. ”
    “ Stop it!” he