Miss Molly Robbins Designs a Seduction by Fresina Jayne

Author:Fresina, Jayne [Fresina, Jayne]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2014-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

“That was quite a scene,” Lady Anne Rothespur remarked as the two angry people departed. “She’s very brassy. What does he see in her, I wonder?”

Molly threaded the last bead into place. “A beautiful face, an elegant form, and a very full bosom, no doubt,” she muttered drolly.

“Men can be such tedious creatures, easily distracted by bright objects. My brother is just as bad. I’ve decided I shall marry a bookish man who doesn’t care at all for looks. Then he won’t be tempted to run off or keep a mistress.”

“A sound idea, to be sure.”

Lady Anne looked over her shoulder. “What about you, Miss Robbins?”

“Me?”

“Have you no plans to marry? Frederick Dawes told me you ran away from your groom at the altar. Did he have a wandering eye too?”

“I decided to devote myself to a career instead,” Molly replied, jabbing her needle into the pincushion at her wrist. “There is no place for a husband in my life.”

“But you will be an old maid.”

“Yes, thank goodness. A happy old maid.”

Lady Anne looked doubtful.

“I am content with my choice,” Molly assured her. “Not every woman is made to be a wife.”

“Jumping Jacks, Miss Robbins! To resign yourself to spinsterhood at your age. It’s a mistake.”

Molly merely smiled.

Suddenly Lady Anne spun around to face her fully, the skirt of her gown fanning out. “I wager you have a secret love.”

“Gracious no.” The more aware she became of the heat in her face the worse it felt; the higher her temperature climbed.

Hands on her waist, the romantically inclined young girl surveyed Molly with sparkling blue eyes. “I always knew there was something about you. Something brewing inside. Carver is right. You have a very devious look about you, Miss Robbins.”

“I assure you there is no man in my life. Not in that sense. Goodness it is hot in here.”

“Perhaps he is promised to another, or there is some other awfully tragic reason why you keep him secret. I suppose you have closed your heart to others because it is reserved only for him, and you will love him unto death.” She placed a gloved finger to her lips. “Is he young or old? Fat or thin? Dark or fair? Are his teeth evenly spaced? Is he good humored? Does he dance with elegance or charge about like a ram in a field of ewes? Does he ride adequately?” Leaning closer, she giggled behind her fan. “Is he ravishingly reckless in the saddle? Does he drink too much port? Does he have horrendously hairy knuckles? I hope, for your sake, he looks well in knee breeches. There is nothing worse than a bandy-kneed beau.”

She laughed at the young lady’s odd jumble of ingredients for a worthy suitor. Caught up in it for a moment, still giddy about the way Carver defended her before his mistress, she decided to play along. “He is old. Too old and set in his ways, I fear. He is very ill humored, dances badly, and drinks far too much.

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