My Favorite Bride by Christina Dodd Read Free Book Online Page B

Duncan took a drink, then rocked back on his heels. “All my governesses were old and cantankerous.”
    â€œAs you no doubt deserved. Most of ours have been young and easily intimidated.” Never had William thought he would look back on those silly girls with nostalgia. But never was one a woman like Miss Prendregast. Miss Prendregast, who walked like an Amazon, looked like an exotic priestess, and had a tongue like a . . . ah, but he mustn’t think of her tongue. Her tongue made him think of kissing and other activities, so better to say she was insolent and leave it at that.
    He took a sip and let the whisky burn all the way down. “That hair of hers . . . a wig, wouldn’t you say?”
    â€œA wig? Are you mad? No, it’s not a wig.”
    â€œIt’s too blonde.” Last night, strands had fallen about her cheeks, and in the dusk they had shone like moonlight. “It must be a wig.”
    â€œWe both agree you don’t know a damned thing about women, and you certainly don’t know about their hair.” Duncan slid into the chair vacated by the governess. “I couldn’t see her eyes. What color are they?”
    â€œBrown.” William lifted his glass. “About this color. Very odd.”
    â€œYou noticed her eye color.” Duncan looked too damned satisfied for William’s comfort, and swirled the whisky. “I can’t wait to gaze into this young lady’s eyes.”
    â€œYou’re not to seduce my governess,” William warned. “Not unless you are prepared to take her place and teach my children.”
    â€œI wouldn’t dream of seducing your governess.” Duncan placed his hand on his heart. “Did you see the way she walks? Like a great, stalking panther, all oiled grace and elegance.”
    â€œShe’s too tall.” William was used to petite women who looked up at him and, when he waltzed with them, felt slight in his arms.
    â€œCan you imagine having those legs wrapped around your neck?”
    All too easily. Did Duncan never know when to stop? “She’s too thin.”
    â€œShe’s too tall, she’s too thin,” Duncan imitated William. “ You’re too picky, as well as being a poor, desperate widower who needs a wife to care for his children, but I like you anyway. Maybe this Miss . . . Miss . . .”
    â€œPrendregast,” William supplied.
    â€œMaybe Miss Prendregast will fill the bill.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œNo?” A lock of tawny hair dropped over Duncan’s brow as he scrutinized his friend. “It’s been three years since Mary’s passed on.”
    â€œSince Mary was killed,” William corrected.
    As gently as he could, Duncan said, “Aye, but it wasn’t your fault.”
    Of course it was William’s fault. “A wife’s safety is her husband’s responsibility.”
    â€œWe were off on a mission for the regiment. How could you know Mary would answer a call for help and step into a Russian ambush set for us?”
    Guilt haunted William. “I should have sent her home. I should have sent them all home. We knew of the danger, so close to the mountains.”
    Duncan stood and put his hand on William’s shoulder. “I know you loved Mary and your heart’s broken, but—”
    William shrugged him off, strode to the window, and looked out at the park. That was the problem. He had loved Mary, but . . . she’d proven something he’d suspected for years. No woman was as interesting as a military campaign. No woman was as exhilarating as a ride across the moors. No woman could possibly capture his heart, for he was a cold man, given to hot passions, but never to love.
    That was part of the reason why he was so determined to catch the traitors responsible for Mary’s death. She had loved him so much, and he had never loved her back with all the fervor she deserved.
    It