A Daring Courtship by Valerie King

Author:Valerie King
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Twin Bridges Creations LLC

Chapter Nine

Two days later, after allowing herself all of Sunday to forget Saturday’s debacle, Madeline walked slowly about her mother’s rose garden. She had refused to ponder any of her difficulties until this moment, hoping that her mind, if given a respite, would be better able to find solutions to her numerous problems.

She held several fragrant rose petals in her hand and sniffed them every now and then, taking in the honeyed perfume. Finally she let her thoughts tumble about at will, at last permitting an evaluation of all that had happened at Mrs. Rockingham’s picnic.

Images of Sir Roger filled her mind first, of how handsome he had appeared in buckskin breeches and a blue coat, the latter shed the moment he began playing with the children. She had admired how readily he had given himself to the spirit of the picnic, entering into the various activities as well as any number of conversations with Mrs. Rockingham’s guests. She remembered feeling relieved that he had done nothing to cause embarrassment to her family and yet how, throughout the day, she had been so fearful he would do just that.

Then he had guided her into the maze and she had led him to the Roman tower, where he had kissed her. She tried to recall just how the kiss had come about. The memory returned to her and her cheeks began to burn. What was it she had said to him? Kiss me and make me forget. How could she have said anything so bold to him, as though she had been begging for a kiss? What had she been thinking? What sort of madness had taken hold of her in that moment?

If only he had not obliged her and kissed her. How much simpler would everything be right now, particularly when merely thinking about that kiss caused her heartbeat to quicken? She had truly never known anything so sublime in her entire existence. Even now, she could feel his lips pressed hard to hers, as though he meant to keep her forever. When he had kissed her before, every touch had been so gentle, but what had occurred between them on Saturday had been something quite different, indeed. And he had kissed her over and over, not ceasing for what felt like an eternity She realized with a horrified start that just for the pleasure of that kiss, she would do the whole thing again. Could anything be worse?

Then he had asked her teasingly if she could love a Scot. How she wished that question undone, a millionfold. She paused in her steps, the rose petals falling to the gravel walk at her feet. Could she love a Scot? Or perhaps a more significant form of the same question: was she already tumbling in love with a Scot?

No, a thousand times no, her mind said. It was not possible. She had been trained from infancy to a different standard, one of purity and loyalty. The Scots killed the English and the English killed the Scots.

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