The Seduction of an English Lady by Cathy Maxwell

Author:Cathy Maxwell [Maxwell, Cathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2011-11-05T11:24:16+00:00

Rosalyn told herself everything would be fine…including the room debate, because she didn’t want to argue in front of the hunters, who were now craning their necks to see what was going on.

“A wedding,” the innkeeper helpfully explained to them, and Rosalyn could have cheerfully wrung his neck. Her affairs were none of these gentlemen’s business.

They made it so.

One hopped to his feet. “I say, I’ll be a witness,” he volunteered and crossed the room to join them. He clapped his hands together in anticipation. “This will make for a good story back in London. Galen,” he introduced himself. “Lord Galen.”

“Mandland,” the colonel answered, “Colonel Mandland.” Was it Rosalyn’s imagination, or did she catch a hint of annoyance in the colonel’s voice? Was she starting to know him well enough to pick up the nuances in his speech?

Lord Galen was oblivious. Two more members of their party made their way down the stairs, and he called cheerily, “Patterson, Tomblin! Look at me. I’m a witness at an elopement!”

His friends grumbled a response, obviously done in by last night’s drinking and more interested in their breakfast than a wedding.

The parson took advantage of Colonel Mandland’s diverted attention, snatching the tankard out of his hands and draining it dry. With a satisfied smack of his lips, he announced, “I’m ready to perform the ceremony.” He sounded surprisingly sober.

Rosalyn didn’t know if she wanted to go through with it. Her wedding ceremony was not a novelty for a hunting party.

Then Colonel Mandland took charge with more courage than anyone in the Valley would have had. “I appreciate your offer, my lord,” he said to Lord Galen. “However, you must remember, no matter where the ceremony is performed, it is a sacred moment.”

Rosalyn was touched until his lordship mugged a face, showing his concern to his companions, who snickered.

The colonel ignored him. He motioned for the innkeeper’s wife to come forward. “Will you be our other witness?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, tucking her wash rag in the waist of her apron. She came to stand beside Lord Galen.

One of the hunters who sprawled at their table yawned, and Rosalyn had to stifle one herself. If she wasn’t so tired, she’d march out of this farce.

The colonel looked at Rosalyn. “I know this is unusual,” he said in a voice for her ears alone, “but please trust me.”

Had he known she was tempted to turn tail and run? She should. A wise woman would.

She didn’t. “Let’s get on with it.”

He rewarded her with a kiss on the forehead. “That’s my girl.” To the parson, he said, “We’re ready.”

“My throat is dry,” the parson complained.

“After the ceremony,” the colonel reiterated.

The parson frowned but reached into his dirty coat with the torn sleeves and pulled out a Book of Common Prayer.

At least the ceremony would be Anglican. Colonel Mandland noticed he held the book upside down and turned it right side up for him.

“Oh, thank you, sir,” the parson said. “Thought I needed my spectacles, and I haven’t seen them in a month.

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