Scandalous Miss Brightwells by Beverley Oakley

Author:Beverley Oakley [Oakley, Beverley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sani Publishing
Published: 2018-03-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Devil’s loud whinny might have been a reminder that what they were doing was very wrong, but Rufus wasn’t the least bit sorry.

The shadows were long when they broke apart, stumbling back and gazing at one another in quite obvious confusion before Miss Montrose turned to pat her horse’s flank, saying briskly, “It’s time we both went our respective ways, I think, Mr Patmore.”

Of course, that would have been the moment to say something. Apologise? Good Lord, no! He wanted to do it again. He wanted more.

“Miss Montrose—” he began, but she put her hand up to deflect him from whatever it was he was going to say—and for the life of him he didn’t know what he was going to say, except that his heart was pumping wildly, he was incredibly aroused—though such an innocent must never know that, and he did most definitely want to talk to her about love.

“Mr Patmore, I have one request, and that’s to be good to my horse. Don’t ride him too hard, will you? I fear that’s what Mr Bramley will do when he’s training him, but perhaps I can count on you to ensure that no harm will come to Devil at the hands of my intended.”

My intended. She spoke of George Bramley so blithely and still in those terms?

Through the gloom, he tried to read some clue in her expression as to what she was feeling. Gad, but he couldn’t seem to rein in his as he searched her eyes for something to give him hope. Anything. His heart was still behaving much like Devil’s would be at the end of the ten-mile race he was to run a few days hence.

Now, though, the emotion Miss Montrose had revealed when he’d unexpectedly come upon her weeping was nowhere in evidence. Had he taken advantage of her vulnerability? Was he a cad? Perhaps she was thinking so at this very moment.

But Miss Montrose was stroking Devil’s flank as if nothing whatsoever out of the ordinary had occurred, when Rufus would have bet his right arm she wasn’t in the habit of kissing gentlemen on limited acquaintance.

A sudden flash of a winsome smile almost winded him; she looked so lovely as she glanced up and caught his eye.

Maybe she was waiting for Rufus to question her on her feelings regarding the kiss they’d shared. His breathing was still ragged, and inside his head rioted a multitude of tumultuous feelings.

“Miss Montrose, I—” His gentlemanly instincts came to the fore at the mention of Bramley. He was going to allude to the passion that had just touched them both, but it seemed she intended to have none of it.

With her cheek still resting against the flank of the horse, she spoke over him. “I must return home now if my aunt isn’t to be worried. And so I will bid you good night.”

“You can’t go alone at this late hour.”

“Of course, you may accompany me, if you wish, though I’ve returned home at this hour on many occasions without an escort.

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