Her Every Pleasure by Gaelen Foley Read Free Book Online

sort of life.”
    “So I have,” she answered in a grim murmur, though he did not know the truth.
    He gave a taut nod, still avoiding her gaze. “So have I.”
    “Well,” she ventured, summoning up a smile to chase away the invisible cloak of heaviness that seemed to come over him. It reminded her of his brooding last night in the church. “Today is a beautiful day,” she pointed out, nodding toward the brilliant tree line and the azure sky.
    It seemed to work. A faint smile eased the tension from his eyes as he watched his horse roll up onto all fours again. The animal stood and shook himself, bits of flowers flying from his creamy mane.
    “Every day is beautiful,” Gabriel said softly. “One need only open one’s eyes.”
    He glanced at her at last, and Sophia laughed at him with harmless mirth. “What, are you some sort of rustic poet?”
    “No, I would try, but I’m no good at spelling,” he shot back with an idle grin. “So, what are
you
?” he asked at length, echoing her own question back to her, as if he could not stop himself.
    She shook her head. “I’m still trying to figure that out.”
    “You’re young,” he said sagely. “It can take awhile.” He opened the door for her when they reached the farmhouse, and Sophia could not help but raise an eyebrow.
    This man had an extraordinary sense of chivalry if this was how he treated lowly maids.
    Nodding her thanks, she walked in ahead of him, but at his show of gallantry, she found herself puzzling once more over his refusal of the “services” that he believed she been sent to render to him as a Gypsy harlot.
    Really, why didn’t he want her? He was such an interesting man—and yet quite immune to her appeal. She believed her feminine pride was a trifle miffed.
    Yet, in a way, his failure to fawn on her was oddly refreshing. She had learned long ago to take flattery with one cynical grain of salt. People would say anything to butter up even exiled royalty, and while courtiers and other toadies frequently sang her praises as a “ravishing beauty,” she was perfectly well aware that her Greek nose was too big and that her hair turned to a cloud of wild frizz whenever it rained—which, in England, was every other day. No, Lady Alexa with her sculpted face and smooth blond tresses was the beautiful one, but it did not signify.
    The point was, Gabriel Knight did not
know
she was royalty and, thus, had no
reason
to flatter her. He was merely being honest—and he honestly found her a woman that he could resist.
    You are being silly,
she informed herself.
Would you prefer it if he tried to paw you?
    For her part, Sophia had dismissed from her household any number of footmen over the years who had been accused of groping her maids. Her whole staff knew she would not tolerate such nonsense.
    Still, Gabriel’s ambivalence toward her left her a bit confused. She was not used to being so easily denied.
    In the kitchen, he introduced her to Mrs. Moss, who took an instant dislike to Sophia.
    She was glad Gabriel had warned her in advance of the old woman’s ill temper. She was unruffled by the housekeeper’s first efforts to intimidate her.
    He leaned in the open doorway off the kitchen, monitoring the housekeeper’s terse, unfriendly interview of her, when suddenly, he started forward, staring toward the field where his horse was grazing.
    Sophia saw his sharp movement and looked over. “Is everything all right?”
    He continued staring out the door. “I think we’ve got a visitor.”
    “What?” She felt her stomach drop with fear, her first thought that her attackers from last night had tracked her down.
    “Look.” He pointed as she rushed over to see for herself.
    As soon as she peeked out the door relief spiraled through her.
    Their visitor was the bay gelding she had ridden here last night.
    Oh, dear, she thought, masking her recognition of the animal. The horse must have wandered through the woods and found his way somehow onto