Love Comes Softly (A Regency Rogue Novella Book 1) by Rebecca Ruger

Author:Rebecca Ruger [Ruger, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance, Women's Fiction, Regency & Victorian Romance, London Society, England & Britain, 19th Century, Forever Love, Bachelor, Single Woman, Love Possibility, Hearts Desire, Life-Changes, Second Chance Reunion, Honesty & Trust, Home & Family, Lifetime Love, Romantic Schemes, Beautiful & Feisty, Love-Family & Forever, Action & Adventure, Clean & Wholesome, A Regency Rogue Novella, Novella Short Stories
Publisher: Rebecca Ruger
Published: 2017-03-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Christian then tried to avoid her for days, but to no avail. Oh, he sought her out not at all, believing distance from such a charming beauty was the only way to strengthen his heretofore deplorable self-control.

But she certainly didn’t make this easy on him. She arrived at Makesly’s lodge the next day and promptly informed his manservant, Gunther, that the earl should be readied to go fishing, happily displaying for Gunther’s approval the rods and small nets she’d brought along. And how was he to resist so tempting an excursion? They spent the day along the bank of a large pond on Makesly’s own property and he found himself telling her of his childhood and his tyrannical father and his absentee mother. To this, she showed great sympathy, though he’d not spoken of such to promote this. He then engaged her by relating exploits of his as a child, things he did after a while just to incur his father’s wrath, only because he knew that he could.

“You were an insufferable child,” she laughed, tossing her line with some expertise into the well-stocked pond.

“I craved attention,” he told her with a shrug. “And any attention was better than no attention at all.”

“You poor boy,” this, with greater sympathy. “Have you never known love and acceptance?”

He didn’t answer, partly because this was much more than he wanted to—or ever had—shared with anyone and his comfort level was decreasing rapidly. He changed the subject then with alacrity, encouraging a debate on the works of Milton. In this arena, she was also well armed, reading being another great passion of hers.

And then she made him kiss her again. Truly, it had not been his intent. He had promised himself that he would not, after all, pursue Isabelle. She was too innocent and truly deserved better than a fortnight’s attendance for his selfish reasons. But she had obviously been thinking of little else and as they prepared to head home, she simply wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head upon his chest. And he was lost, undone by such emotion as she was never afraid to show, and so he had to kiss her.

The day which followed he tried yet again to avoid a meeting with her but to no avail. He’d gone into Sudberry so that she might not find him at home, but she found him instead at McGavern’s Stables, leaning against the corral fence, watching some young horses being trained.

“There you are, my lord,” she greeted him happily, as if she had no other emotion when near him—for which he was secretly thrilled, though it made this present objective all the more difficult. He’d learned that Gunther had given up his whereabouts with little provocation and so she stood before him, armed with that enchanting smile and a filled-to-the-brim picnic basket and again, any resolve he have hoped to maintain was lost to so fetching a picture. Soon they were enjoying this feast creekside and even those dastardly siblings could not dampen his mood, though not for want of effort.

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