The Tempestuous Debutante: Book 4 in the Cotillion Ball Series (Crimson Romance) by Becky Lower Read Free Book Online Page A

hailed from Scotland, so I’m something of a mutt.”
    Jasmine glanced at the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, and was surprised as a twinge of envy enveloped her. At least the two of them had a bond. Since Heather left her side last year, for the first time since they were born, Jasmine was acutely aware she had no bond with anyone anymore.
    “If I can pull the two of you apart, let’s get to the lesson, shall we? After all, that’s why I’m here.”
    Parr and Colleen laughed together as he moved to the side of the carriage and helped Jasmine down. “Aye, cailín, we can’t be forgetting the true purpose of your visit, now can we? Let’s get a move on.”
    Jasmine couldn’t swear to it, but she thought she detected a trace of irony in the midst of the brogue.
    • • •
    After Parr unhitched the horse from the carriage and placed him in the paddock with some grain, he led the ladies into the stable. Colleen had brought her bag of knitting with her, and sat down on a bale of hay, propping her back up against the wall. Jasmine glanced at her as Parr continued on to the tack room, expecting her to follow.
    “Aren’t you coming any further, Colleen? You’re supposed to be watching out for me.”
    Colleen’s eyes crinkled in humor as she gazed at the entrance to the tack room. “I’ve no doubts about him, unlike the other men you know. After all, he’s from Ireland. It’ll be all right. Besides, I’d rather sit by this cozy wood stove. Go on with you now, lass, and leave me to my knitting.”
    Jasmine took a wary step forward. “I’ll be sure to tell Mother of your lack of concern.”
    Colleen merely laughed.
    Jasmine stopped at the entrance to the small room, hesitant to go further despite spending a few minutes in it the other day. Today was different, since he was going to put her up on a saddle. And probably a horse. She pretended to inhale the scent of leather and polish that emanated from the well-ordered room. Parr was not a large man, but his presence did seem to fill the space. Jasmine took in his dark locks, which fell in waves around his face. A handsome face, with ice-blue eyes that made her very uncomfortable. She straightened her shoulders and walked quickly into the room.
    “So, what’s first on the agenda?”
    “I want you to climb up on this saddle block and try out the small saddle I use for racing.”
    Jasmine blew out a breath. “You mean you don’t want me to get on a horse today?” Her voice held a bit of a squeak. She winced, not wanting to reveal her true anxiety to him.
    “No, cailín. I want you to get the feel of the saddle first. Hurry on, up you go.”
    He took her hand and helped her balance as she threw her right leg over the saddle. Her skirt bunched up around her and she struggled for decorum.
    “Are your feet in the stirrups?”
    “I can’t even find the stirrups, with my skirt in the way.”
    “Well, this will never do. Come on down off there for a moment.”
    Jasmine took his hand as she jumped down and stood facing him. When his eyes met hers, she backed off a step, even though he still held her hand. Her stomach was fluttering and she told herself it was merely because of the anxiety of the lesson and the impending horse she would have to climb up on. “What now?”
    “Well, there’s only one solution. Take off your skirt.”
    She gasped. “Surely you jest,” she said as she slapped away his hand and turned her back to him.
    “You have on chamois riding breeches under your skirt, don’t you?”
    She turned to face him, spinning around on one heel, and running her hands down the skirt. “How do you know what women wear under their riding habits?”
    Parr merely grinned at her.
    “Right. Fine. So you’ve tumbled girls in the barn before, on beds made of hay. How utterly delightful. But you are right. I can’t do this with my skirt on, at least not yet.”
    She moved to the side wall and leaned against it while she undid her skirt and let it