WidowsWickedWish by Lynne Barron Read Free Book Online Page B

and screaming to the north of
England to live on his grandparents’ sprawling sheep farm with his father, a
man whose mines were only just beginning to pay off, the nearest town a rural
backwater with almost no society to speak of.
    Jack had dreamed of a different life for himself, one in
which he worked alongside his father to make the mines a success and only then
returned to London to choose a bride. He’d imagined choosing a proper lady from
the debutantes, one whose family had perhaps found their coffers in want of
replenishing. He would marry a pretty young lady who would smile at him across
the breakfast table and welcome him shyly into her bed. And his sons would be
gentlemen, welcomed into Society with open arms, rather than barely tolerated
as he had been.
    Of course there had never been any question that Lady
Olivia, the Earl of Hastings’ daughter, could ever be his chosen bride. Even
had she somehow remained unmarried long enough for him to make his fortune and
return to Town, her family was one of the oldest, wealthiest and most revered
in England. While her parents had accepted his presence in their home, they
would never have condescended to allow him, a miner’s son, to sully either
their daughter’s or their name.
    But when Jack had imagined his future bride, she had shyly
smiled up at him as if he hung the moon. She had gazed at him with solemn
silver-gray eyes. Her voice had been soft and sweet. And the hair that had
spread out upon his pillow had been a luminous cascade of lustrous sable waves.
    Now just such a lady lay beside him. She was different than
the girl he remembered, her smile softer, mysterious and tranquil, her gray
eyes warm and direct, her voice darker, huskier, her dark tresses cropped short
to hug her head and tease a man to wrap a wayward curl around and around his
finger. Even so, Jack thought she would still make an ideal wife, an ideal
mother to his daughter and his future children.
    The Countess of Palmerton was now a widow and independent in
a way that unmarried ladies could never be. She was in control of her life, her
future. She could marry where she chose. She could marry the wealthy son of a
successful miner, the grandson of sheep farmers, father of a twelve-year-old
girl. Olivia could marry Jack and give him back the life he had dreamed of
living.
    Olivia murmured and rolled onto her back. As Jack watched,
her lips lifted into a gentle smile and her lashes trembled. She sighed softly
and lay still once more. For all of two seconds, then she frowned and opened
her eyes, blinked once, twice and locked her startled gaze upon Jack where he
leaned over her on his elbow.
    “Oh my God!” she whispered, her eyes widening. “You’re still
here! What are you doing here?”
    “Where else should I be?” he asked as he bent his head to
capture her lips.
    Two small but strong hands landed on his bare chest and
pushed. “In your room,” she whispered, turning her head away, withholding the
kiss he wanted. “You should be in your room.”
    “Not just yet, sweetheart,” he murmured as he kissed a path
down her exposed neck. Her skin was warm, musky.
    “Now,” she insisted. “You must go now.”
    Olivia shrugged, dislodging his lips that had wandered down
to feast upon the sprinkling of freckles he discovered on her shoulder. “Jack,
really, I don’t mean to be rude.”
    “Rude?” he asked in surprise as he sat up.
    “You really must go. Now.” Then she pushed him and made
little motions with her hands, those small delicate hands with unlikely
calluses on them, shooing motions one might use to herd a small child hither
and yon.
    Jack laughed, the sound rusty in his ears.
    “Are you attempting to get rid of me, Lady Palmerton?”
    “Shhh,” she whispered and then more forcefully, “Get out.
Please”
    She was serious. She was tossing him from her bed like last
night’s leftovers. Jack couldn’t decide whether to be insulted or amused. He
chose amused and laughed