Page List


Font:  

Dear heaven, could she sound any more gauche? Mortified heat flooded her face, making a mockery of the cold day.

“Oh?” Now, plague take him, he looked more interested than ever. “The vicar’s daughter has a shady past. How intriguing. Perhaps you can teach me a thing or two.”

“Don’t be absurd,” she said shakily, curling her hands into fists until her fingernails dug into her palms. Daisy started to nibble at the dry winter grass.

“Who was the lucky laddie?” Channing’s eyes glinted with devilry. “Or was there more than one?”

“You’re not acting like a gentleman, my lord,” she said stiffly.

“But I am acting like a Scot, a pirate, and a libertine.”

“There’s no need to sound so proud of yourself.” Mustering every ounce of courage, she stepped up in front of him. “Very well. I’m ready.”

He caught her arm. “I wish I had another donkey that I could barter in return for some enthusiasm.”

Interrupting Daisy’s foraging, he shortened her rein and pulled her toward the woods. He marched across the open grass with a determined step, and because he held Bess’s arm, she went, too, more confused than ever. Not least because while she resented Channing cornering her into this disgraceful bargain, she didn’t at all resent the idea of kissing him.

She must be losing her mind.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” She cringed that the question emerged more like a complaint than a protest. He’d touched her earlier but now, with kisses in the offing, she was vitally aware of that strong hand curled around her arm.

“For shame, Miss Farrar. Have you no care for your reputation?”

“My reputation?”

He lowered his voice, although there was nobody except Bess and Daisy to hear him. “If I kiss you in the open, someone might see us.”

Curse him, he was right. Even on a cold, miserable afternoon like this, one of his estate workers might pass by and glimpse them embracing on the edge of an empty field.

Trepidation kept Bess uncharacteristically silent as Lord Channing escorted her into the shelter of the trees. How had she reached a point where the new earl was about to kiss her? How had she reached a point where she wanted him to kiss her?

For once, she wished Daisy would act up. But true to her contrary nature, she ambled along behind them as quiet as a lamb. Perhaps, like Bess, the donkey recognized Lord Channing as unstoppable, and she’d decided cooperation was the best strategy.

“Stop thinking,” Channing murmured, drawing her off the path into a secluded glade. Even in the middle of winter, the leafless trees crowding around them offered privacy. “I can hear your mind churning like a millwheel. It’s putting me off my stride.”

“I can’t help it,” she said unsteadily.

“It won’t be as bad as you imagine.”

The problem was that she didn’t for a moment imagine it would be bad. She was convinced it was going to be very good indeed. The kind of kiss that made a girl yearn.

Mostly Bess was content with her sequestered life. She dreaded the thought of anyone shattering that tranquility and making her hanker for something beyond Penton Wyck.

The earl released Bess in the middle of the small cl

earing, and she immediately missed the touch of that large, capable hand. He tied Daisy to a branch, using an impossibly complicated knot that was a reminder of his maritime background. Goodness, he must have been a first-rate pirate. One glance from those purposeful green eyes, and any merchant would quail and immediately hand over his cargo.

She’d always considered herself strong-willed. Compared to Lord Channing, she was a sapling in a whirlwind.

“She’ll bolt,” Bess said.

“No, she won’t. That knot will hold through an Arctic gale.” That interrogatory eyebrow arched once again. “Are you planning on bolting, too?”

The donkey nosed idly at the leaves scattered across the brown grass. Bess shifted from one booted foot to the other. “Then you wouldn’t let us have Daisy for the play.”

“Quite right.” The smile in his eyes didn’t reach his lips. “If only the villagers knew the sacrifices you’re willing to make on their behalf.”

“I’d rather they never knew about this…disreputable bargain,” she said stiffly, even as her heart raced so fast with sinful anticipation, she felt lightheaded. “Please, get it over with.”


Tags: Anna Campbell Romance