Ransom Redeemed by Jayne Fresina Read Free Book Online Page B

Deverell proudly flourished the small, deadly-looking blade with which he had cut the string and exclaimed, "See how blessed you are that I'm here."
    Although released from the parcel, she still had the knot around her finger like a ring. He grabbed her wrist.
    "Hold still, woman."
    She looked up, ready to tell him it didn't matter, that she could manage by herself, but he was intent on the exceedingly perilous business of sliding that blade between her finger and the merciless tourniquet she'd accidentally made around it. Perhaps not a good idea to argue with him at that moment.
    It was said that he'd killed a woman. Although it was never proved. She knew he'd shot at his father, the notorious True Deverell, some years ago. Raven had once mentioned the difficult relationship between her brother and their father, how they were always at war, Ransom being too much like his father in many ways.
    And everybody knew that True Deverell was once named the wickedest rake in all England.
    "There." The knot dropped away from her finger and yet she had barely felt the cool blade brush her skin. "All done." With a swift flick of his hand he hid the knife away again inside his evening coat.
    "Put your pout away, Miss Ashford," he muttered. "I shan't say that we are now equal, one favor for another. I could, of course. But since you're such a persistent creature I wouldn't dare leave without those books. You might tackle me to the ground if I tried."
    Mary somehow managed a smile— at least she thought she did, but her mind was spinning and she really had no idea what her face did. Her heartbeat had quickened until it must have rivaled the pace of a fox about to be torn apart by hounds.
    She'd never seen a man use a knife in her presence for anything more physical than carving a roasted goose. Certainly no one had ever put a sharp blade against her skin. And this man had taken possession of her hand— and of her for those few seconds— as if it was a mere trivial matter. As if he had no fear of drawing blood. As if she ought to have no fear likewise, but trust him completely.
    Hidden among the pleats of her skirt, the rescued finger shyly recovered. The same could not be said for the uneven, giddy thump of her heart.
    Ransom Deverell had announced his name a little too grandly, she thought, as if he expected her to slap one hand to her brow and faint at the sound of it.
    What a strange, amusing man he was. Infuriating too, no doubt, if one was "blessed" with his company for too long.
    In the very beginning his eyes had appeared heartless and savage, just as his French pursuer described them. But when Mary challenged him, stood up to his foolishness, the light came and now, when he looked at Mary, there was so much heat and curiosity in his regard that she feared for her skirt. As Dr. Woodley had reminded her, it was a terribly combustible garment. She'd never felt quite so much truth to the warning, as she did now.
    Pity she didn't have a washbasin of cold water at hand, as she did when droopy Lionel Winchester performed his tuneless mating call beneath her window.
    Today the cooling splash might have been useful, not only for this wild-eyed panther, but for her too.

Chapter Four
     
    She could blame it on the grey-day malaise she'd suffered earlier, or the fact that she was hungry, but a long-dormant desire for mischief suddenly reared its naughty head.
    Reaching under the counter for the ledger of bills due, she asked politely, " Drivel. Was that the name? Could you spell that for me, sir?"
    He rested his sizeable knuckles on the counter and leaned forward. "Deverell! You must have heard of me."
    She glanced upward. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't believe I have. Should I? Are you an actor of some sort? Like Mr. Edmund Kean?"
    His expression was priceless. Quickly she looked down again, struggling against the desperate urge to laugh.
    "No, I'm not an actor ," he huffed .
    "Oh," she muttered with a quaking sigh. "I always rather regretted