The Smuggler and the Society Bride by Julia Justiss Read Free Book Online Page B

over and filled her nostrils with the rich spicy aroma of alba rose. Eyes closed, inhaling the heady scent, she was distracted for a moment from the curiously mingled sensations of attraction and avoidance inspired by the man beside her.
    â€˜They are lovely,’ she exclaimed, reluctantly turning back to him. ‘So at least this part of your tale is true. Is it the lilt of Ireland I hear in your voice?’
    He made her a bow. ‘Indeed you do. ’Tis a fine ear you have, Miss Foxe—which means it matches the rest of you.’
    She felt her left ear warm, while the tendril of hair just above was stirred by his breath. Other parts of her began to warm and stir as well.
    Blast the man! He made resisting his seemingly unstudied charm deuced difficult—and she had been wooed by some of London’s most accomplished. No wonder all the maids from Padstow to Polperro were smitten.
    â€˜I’m convinced half of what you say is nonsense, but I’ll concede you spin a good story. My brother says Irish troopers tell the best tales of anyone in the Army.’
    His lazy regard sharpened. ‘Your brother is an Army lad? In which regiment?’
    Belatedly realizing her error, she said vaguely, ‘Oh, I don’t recall the number.’ As if she didn’t know to a man how many troopers Hal commanded in his company of the 11th Dragoons. ‘I’ve heard you were with the Army, too,’ she said, trying to turn the conversation back to him.
    â€˜Yes.’
    She waited, but he said nothing more. ‘That seems an odd choice for one who is…taken with the sea,’ she said finally.
    â€˜â€™Tis only a temporary occupation.’
    â€˜Until?’ she probed.
    â€˜Until I choose a more permanent one.’
    He was no more forthcoming than she. Was he, too, running from something or someone? The wrath of the Irish authorities over some misdeed? The vengeance of a cuckolded husband?
    Though Honoria realized she should recoil from one she knew to be a law-breaker, she could not sense emanating from this charming blue-eyed captain a hint of anything venal or sinister. She felt no threat at all.
    But then, how much credence should she put in her senses? She’d thought she could handle Lord Barwick in the garden—and had trusted in Anthony’s support and loyalty.
    Mr Hawksworth jolted her out of those unpleasant reflections by asking, ‘What are your plans, Miss Foxe? Do you make your aunt a long visit? With summer just coming into Cornwall, it’s particularly beautiful here.’
    â€˜It is lovely,’ she agreed, sidestepping the question. ‘By the way, how did you know I liked flowers?’
    â€˜Oh, I have my sources,’ he replied.
    Had Tamsyn talked to him about her? Somehow she couldn’t believe that the maid, if she were granted audience with her hero, would waste it prattling about her employer’s niece. ‘A guess, then,’ she countered, ‘since most females like roses. Particularly females visiting a lady who possesses one of the finest gardens in the area. Though not this particular rose,’ she added, inspecting the blossom. ‘Perhaps I should take a cutting back to Foxeden. In a sheltered bed, it should thrive.’
    â€˜Under your hands, anything would thrive.’
    Honoria gave him a sharp glance. He was flirting again, which given the differences in their stations, he should not. But he persisted anyway.
    She should be angry, since his forwardness was almost forcing her to snub him, something she really didn’t wish to do. Nor, faced with his straightforward honesty, could she seem to hold on to her anger.
    Unlike other men she’d known, he didn’t appear to practice deceit. He’d freely admitted who he was. If he were a rogue, at least he was an honest one.
    Which made him a refreshing change from the London dissemblers who flattered to one’s face while plotting ruin behind