The Major's Faux Fiancee by Erica Ridley Read Free Book Online Page A

guardian would choose a one-legged soldier over a rich, eligible duke. Particularly not someone as opportunistic as a pirate.
    He tensed. No one in his right mind would choose a one-legged soldier over anyone .
    Not that it mattered. He straightened his shoulders. He had no intention of paying suit to right-minded people. He just had to make a positive impression on Captain Steele, sign a sham contract, and then return to his life of endless solitude as if this interlude had never happened.
    As if being the recipient of feigned interest hadn’t made him yearn for the real thing.
    He gazed at Daphne. What might it be like if she felt a fraction as passionately for him as she did for her charity work? She was not completely immune to him. The expression on her face when she’d first laid eyes on him indicated she found his appearance more than pleasing.
    Of course, that was because his false leg was disguised beneath layers of clothing. His flesh turned cold. No matter what sparks might fly between them, nothing could come of it. He had no wish to sink his fingers into her hair and cover her mouth with his own, only for her to feel revulsion when she saw him naked.
    They’d been friends before. They would simply have to remain so. No matter how a part of him might wish there was a chance for something more.
    Captain Steele swept into the room with a smile on his face and a sword at his side. “Miss Vaughan. Gentlemen. I’ve just taken possession of the delivery I was waiting for. If tomorrow is as clear a day as today, who would like to take my new horses for a run?”
    Bartholomew groaned inwardly. The devil only knew how a pirate had managed to purchase horseflesh at half ten on a Thursday night, but that was the least of Bartholomew’s concerns. Fairfax and Whitfield were already arguing over which path would allow them to race the fastest, and even Daphne had clapped her hands together in delight. Bartholomew’s shoulders sank.
    He had no competition. He couldn’t even play the game.

Chapter Seven

     
    Unfortunately for Bartholomew, the following day was bright and sunny, with nary a snow cloud in the uncharacteristically blue sky. The ground was still frozen and the frigid air would slice painfully across the wind-chapped face of any rider foolish enough to race an unfamiliar steed across frost-ruined terrain.
    In other words, everyone except him.
    The other gentlemen were already astride their horses, laughing and prancing and bickering over which path would be the fastest route around the lake. He stared wistfully at the rolling hill dipping below the horizon. Lord, how he wished he could join the fun.
    Instead, he hung back near the doorway. Which meant he was the first to see Daphne step outside to join them. His breath caught at the sight.
    She wore a simple day dress and spencer, rather than a riding habit. Perhaps she did not own one. Her red-gold curls were pinned beneath a wide-brimmed bonnet. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed.
    “Did they leave us the slowest nags?” She grinned up at him from beneath her bonnet as she took his arm. “Or give us the feistiest steeds?”
    He cleared his throat. “You’ll have your pick of the remaining horses. I won’t be riding.”
    Her smile fell. Her eyes lost some of their sparkle. “You don’t want to join me?”
    Bartholomew’s jaw locked. Her obvious disappointment curled about his heart like a fist. How he longed to join her. To see her smiling at him with her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed as they raced side by side over the frozen hills. Enjoying the moment together.
    But the mood was already broken.
    “I’m afraid I cannot,” he said. “I’m on my last leg, as it were.”
    Her eyes widened in sudden sympathy. “Oh, I didn’t think… Of course we don’t have to ride. ’Tis too cold for such rubbish anyway. Let me talk to my guardian, and I’ll—”
    “Balderdash.” His neck heated in embarrassment. He didn’t need or want her