Silver Angel by Johanna Lindsey Read Free Book Online

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Chapter Six
    C aroline Douglas reined in the high-stepping mare and waited for Derek to catch up with her. She hadn’t expected him to call this afternoon, or to suggest they ride out when he learned her father had guests. But she hadn’t been caught unprepared. This was her chance to wear her new riding habit of dark navy wool, with a light blue satin waistcoat cut like a man’s. The masculine style of the outfit, made by a man’s tailor, was quite fashionable, and she knew she looked particularly fetching in these colors with her red hair. At least Derek thought so, since he said as much.
    Under the brim of her tall hat, she watched him approach, admiring his handling of the half-trained stallion he rode. Raising Thoroughbreds was just a hobby to him, yet his stable produced some of the finest horseflesh in England, many of which were champion racers. Her own mare had been a gift from him when he asked her to marry him. She loved the animal. She loved Derek. She sighed, wondering for the hundredth time if it wasn’t a mistake to marry one’s best friend.
    No, she had to stop it. She had already jilted two men, to her father’s vast displeasure. She couldn’t do it again, and certainly not to Derek Sinclair, Earl of Mulbury. She wanted to marry him, she really did.
    She couldn’t think of a more perfect union. They had grown up together on neighboring estates. They knew each other so well. Her father looked on himas a second son. And then there were the incidental things, such as his charm, his handsomeness, his gentle nature. Of course he was a sensualist, but she couldn’t really fault that, not when his kisses made her feel like she was the most cherished, beloved woman in the world. The trouble was, she was afraid he made every woman feel that way, and he had had so many women, so many women at the same time.
    He used to tell her about each and every conquest, just as she had told him about her first infatuation and each subsequent one. As far as that went, they had no secrets. He had sworn to make her happy. She believed he could. She knew he had given up his mistresses when he proposed to her, and that included half the maids in his grandfather’s house. It wasn’t that she didn’t think he could be faithful to her. So what was it that made her keep having these doubts?
    Bride’s jitters, no more. She had suffered them twice before as the wedding date approached, and it was no wonder. Decisions came hard for her because she rarely had to make any for herself. She didn’t have the confidence to be certain of her choice when she did make one. It had always been so. One of the things that drew her to Derek was that he gave of himself, his own confidence, his strength. When he made a friend, it was for life, as if that person belonged to him. Maybe that was what was wrong. She felt she had always belonged to him. She couldn’t imagine her life without him in it. Was that why she had said yes, so there would be no chance of her ever losing his friendship?
    No, she loved him, always had. Well, not always. He had taken getting used to when he first came to England. She had been only six years old. He had been almost eleven. He spoke French, acted in strangeways. She hadn’t been taught French yet, so their communication was limited, but only for a short while, for he learned to speak English with amazing speed. He had been raised in some Near Eastern country where his father was an ambassador. The Marquis’s daughter, Melanie, had married the fellow while abroad and in all those years had not returned to England. But both Derek’s parents had died when he was ten, and so he had been sent to live with his grandfather, who had immediately had Derek’s name changed to Sinclair since, as the last male of the line, he was the Marquis’s only heir.
    She remembered Derek’s condescension that first year of his arrival, his air of superiority. He had acted like he was a bloody king and everyone else was