Baroness in Buckskin by Sheri Cobb South Read Free Book Online Page B

cousin Jane, drawn to her serene composure as steel to a magnet.
    “That depends,” she said, inserting the needle into her embroidery and pulling it through. “What have you done that I am expected to forgive?”
    “Need you ask? I have set you an impossible task, for which I apologize with all my heart. A baroness in buckskin!” he said bitterly, shaking his head in appalled disbelief.
    She gave him a reproachful look. “I think she deserves your apology far more than I. Really, Richard, how could you be so maladroit as to take her for a servant girl? And she has your great-great-grandfather’s nose, too!” she added, with a lurking twinkle in her fine grey eyes.
    “Has she? I confess, I did not notice. I was too taken aback by the clothes, and the hair, and the freckles, and the—”
    “Clothes can be changed, hair can be cut, and freckles can be faded with crushed strawberries. As for the responsibilities of running a noble household, bear in mind that Miss Ramsay has had charge of her father’s house from a young age. In fact, she may find instructing servants to be rather less demanding than being obliged to do everything for herself. So you see, it is not so impossible a task, after all. But I do think you must beg her pardon.”
    “Oh, unquestionably! I only hope she will not snap my nose off. I wonder she did not do so tonight, for she certainly had murder in her eye.”
     Jane acknowledged the truth of this with a laugh. “Well, and can you blame her?”
    “After crossing the ocean only to be insulted by her betrothed?” He grimaced at the memory. “No jury in the land would convict her.”
    Jane knotted the thread and snipped it off with a tiny pair of scissors, then set her needlework aside. “It was not, perhaps, your finest moment, but when one considers that you had only just returned from London yourself—”
    He held up a hand to forestall her. “Pray do not make excuses for me! Believe me, I am fully aware of my own gaucherie.”
    “Very well, then, I will only predict that, after she has had a good night’s rest, you may find her inclined to laugh the whole thing off.” Seeing he was not convinced, she added, “What is the matter, Richard? Do you want to cry off?”
    He recoiled as if she had struck him. “Good God, is that what you think of me—that I could ask a gently born female to travel halfway ’round the world to marry me, only to jilt her practically at the altar?”
    “No, but I do think you are generous to a fault when it comes to putting the needs of others ahead of your own. Surely you have a right to expect happiness in your marriage, and if you cannot find it with Miss Ramsay, then she is unlikely to be happy with you, either.”
    He dashed a weary hand over his eyes. “My dear Jane, how can I know whether we could be happy together or not, when I never laid eyes on her until this evening? Clearly, she and I must get to know each other rather better before the ceremony, but in the meantime—” He heaved a sigh. “In the meantime, I shall depend upon my clever Cousin Jane to work her particular magic on the girl.”
    He lifted her hand to his lips in a gesture that held all the exaggerated gallantry of his bow to his bride, and yet where that earlier performance had been stiffly formal, his obeisance to his cousin Jane held a great deal of charm. After he had said goodnight and left her in sole possession of the drawing room, Jane sighed and pressed her hand to her cheek. If he would show this side of himself to his chosen bride, she felt certain Miss Susannah Ramsay would tumble head over ears.
    Granted, at first glance it would be difficult to imagine a less likely bride for Lord Ramsay, who certainly knew what was due his position and his name. And yet, where he had seen only a female with unruly ginger hair and odd, poorly fitted clothing made of buckskin and homespun, Jane’s keener eye (sizing up a rival in spite of her best efforts not to view her cousin