The Scarlet Bride by Cheryl Ann Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

She’d laughed and danced and was hopeful of her future. Unfortunately, her father’s illness had worsened. Everything had changed once he realized he was dying.
    The frivolity of her life had vanished.
    Her chest tightened as the bright sky seemed to darken around her. “Sometimes it is safer to cling to dullness. It allows one to go through life without notice.”
    S imon heard an underlying current of something in her voice—a deep sadness. It notched up his curiosity about her.
    “Perhaps.” He let his eyes drift over her hair and noticed there was a hint of red in the sable. Her lashes were long and dark and effectively shaded her eyes. From his position above, he could see the graceful curve of her neck and the straight line of her pert nose. But it was the upward press of her full white bosom against her modest neckline that caused the most interest. She possessed delightful curves.
    Beneath his breeches, he felt a stir, and silently cursed his reaction. If he wanted her to trust him, openly lusting after her was not the way to go about earning favor.
    “I see you have a basket,” he asked, changing the conversation. He needed to lighten her mood. “Dare I hope you are in possession of food?”
    She looked at the basket and frowned. She was clearly nearing the end of her patience. He should ride away, but found he couldn’t. He was curious to know her better.
    “I suppose I
could
share with you….” She let her voice trail off, leaving him the perfect opening to excuse himself.
    Instead, he nodded toward a nearby copse of trees. “Then I think that field yonder is a perfect spot for a picnic.”
    Simon ignored her exasperated sigh and nudged Horse off the road. He dismounted and tied both Horse and the pony to a crooked fence post.
    The two animals regarded each other warily before the weeds waving near their muzzles proved more interesting than each other. They both settled down to eat.
    Holding out his arm, Simon led Laura across the meadow to a pair of oak trees. The light scent of flowers drifted up from her and he grinned. If he could soothe her annoyance, then perhaps the picnic would be a success.
    He shucked off his coat and smoothed his gray-striped waistcoat into place. They didn’t have a blanket, and her white dress wasn’t practical for sitting on bare earth.
    “Allow me.” He spread the coat out for her. She murmured her thanks and settled down on the makeshift seat. Simon sat on a patch of prickly grass and lifted the lid of the basket.
    “Are those tarts I smell?” If the delightful scent was any indication, the cook at the courtesan school possessed excellent culinary skills. But it wasn’t food he found first. Brows aloft, he closed his hand over polished steel and lifted a pistol to the light. “Someone is expecting trouble.”
    Laura gasped, screwed up her face, and shook her head. “Sophie is very protective. Clearly she expected me to be overrun by highwaymen and thieves.”
    Simon turned it in the light. It was loaded. “These are only useful when one knows how to use them.”
    Laura smirked. She reached for the pistol and he reluctantly put the weapon in her outstretched hand. It took him a few seconds to realize she knew exactly how to handle a pistol as she skillfully examined the piece.
    At his surprised look, she shrugged. “My father always hoped for a son. Sadly, my parents had no other children. So he taught me everything a son should know.”
    Simon grinned and reclaimed the pistol. “I am impressed.” And he was. She was quite an interesting puzzle. “Now we eat.”
    As he pulled out each food item, he eagerly anticipated the next. Slices of fresh bread filled with ham and slices of cheese, the strawberry tarts, and some sort of crusty meat pie that he suspected by the aroma was pigeon, rounded out the fare. “Your cook expected you to feed an army. There is enough food here for a half dozen hearty appetites.”
    A smile tugged one corner of her mouth.