Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) by Maureen Driscoll Read Free Book Online Page A

He was annoyed that Francis would have named the chit in front
of the crowd.  Just being associated with such a bet was enough to endanger a lady’s
reputation.
    “You’ve already met, if only informally,” said
Francis with a grin.
    Hal tried to think of the endless parade of debutantes
he’d met – for she had to have just made her come-out for Francis to be crowing
about it quite so much.  But he couldn’t think of a Melanie Sutton, nor did her
surname sound familiar.
    “I’ll admit it was under the most unusual
circumstances,” said Francis with a grin.  “We were at Dill’s and she was
trying to stop her determined colleague from certain disaster.”
    All of the sudden it hit Hal.  “The chit with the
stockings.”
    “Oh, ho!” said Francis.  “Perhaps you’re more
acquainted with her than I imagined.”
    “No, it’s not like that,” said Hal, who was curious
in spite of himself.  She’d been on his mind for weeks.  Getting a kiss from
the chit might be pleasant enough, as long as he could disabuse her of any
lasting consequences to the act.  Of course, he also had to ensure Francis’s
silence on the matter and figure out a way to get it off the books.  But, other
than the woman from the previous evening, there was no one else he’d rather
kiss.
    Francis was grinning at Hal in a way that didn’t
bode well.  “Do you also realize she’s the Earl of Heffner’s ward?”
    All hopes of a kiss without complications fled Hal’s
mind.  Within the ton , a kiss was the prelude to marriage.  Some poor
bastards didn’t even get to kiss their bride until after the wedding.  Kissing
Miss Sutton was all of the sudden a much more daunting prospect.
    As if reading his mind, Francis asked “Care to concede
the bet and pay me my hundred pounds now?”
    “Not on your life,” said Hal, determined to best his
friend.  “I have no intention of failing.”
    *                    *                    *
    Melanie had arisen even later than usual that
morning, no doubt the result of having been awake half the night thinking of
that kiss.  It had easily been the most extraordinary few moments of her life. 
It was quite vexing that the man she’d shared it with was such a rake.  But
from all accounts, Lord Henry Kellington was a wastrel.  It had been easy to
learn his identity, because in spite of the discretion shown by the Raleighs’
footmen in carrying him away, someone must have seen what transpired.  And that
person had wasted no time in spreading word throughout the ballroom.  Mel found
it hard to believe that Lord Henry was Lady Riverton’s brother.  But perhaps
that lady had been driven to the cause of reform by his very actions.
    Mel could only hope that the man had been so
inebriated that he didn’t know whom he’d really kissed.  It wouldn’t do for
this to get back to her aunt and uncle.
    After taking an apple from the kitchen, Mel joined
her cousin and Aunt Evelyn in the sitting room, where Mary was working on her embroidery. 
Her cousin’s creation was intricate and pleasing to the eye.  Mel’s efforts
were the stuff of nightmares.
    “Good morning, my dear,” said Aunt Evelyn, as she
looked up from her own needlework.  “I hope you slept well.”
    “I did,” said Mel with a smile, inwardly wincing at
the untruth.  But it wouldn’t do to be asked why she couldn’t sleep.  “And I
hope you did, as well.”
    “I was so exhausted when we returned home I believe
I was asleep before my head reached the pillow.  Poor Frederick almost had to
carry me upstairs.”
    “But Papa is much too old for such things,” said a
concerned Mary.
    “Your papa and I are not yet in our dotage, my love. 
I assure you he is quite capable of carrying me.”
    It appeared to Mel that her aunt colored slightly,
although Mary was too engrossed in her work to notice.
    Their butler Finlay entered the room holding a
silver salver.  He bowed to Lady