Beguiling Bridget by Rachel Van Dyken & Leah Sanders

Author:Rachel Van Dyken & Leah Sanders
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Astraea Press
Published: 2012-07-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

The Best Defense

To say Bridget was angry did not begin to describe it. Abandoned. Humiliated. Rejected.

Furious.

And arrogant Lord Maddox — the impossible, infuriating beast of a man — was every whit the enigma. One moment he was swearing an oath to keep his hands to himself, the next moment he seemed to have eight of them, and every one acted as a homing pigeon bringing messages of desire straight to her core. As if that wasn’t enough, when she actually wanted him to kiss her, he left her twisting in the wind.

A fresh surge of indignation burned through her again. She climbed the stairs to her rooms, slamming the door behind her with a fury.

This ridiculous bargain was more trouble than it was worth. True, Aunt Latissia and Uncle Ernest had stopped hovering about at the social functions, but the viscount had hardly kept up his end.

In fact, the only thing for which Bridget could rely on Anthony was that he was completely unreliable. But that was just like all the men she had ever known. Why did this one disturb her so much?

A knock sounded on the door, and a downstairs maid entered with a bouquet of fresh flowers.

“Begging your pardon, milady. These arrived for you a few minutes ago.” She placed the bouquet in a crystal vase on a small table, turned to Bridget, and offered an envelope.

“Thank you, Lily,” Bridget said as she accepted the note, tempering her bad humor in the presence of the servant, though she was certain signs of her rage were still evident on her face.

Lily nodded but made no move to depart.

“Is there something else, Lily?” Bridget asked.

“I’m to wait for a reply, milady.”

“Very well.” Bridget retrieved her letter opener from the drawer of the table and slipped the blade through the flap of the envelope, making a clean slice across the top. The note was from Viscount Maddox.

I would be delighted if you would join me tomorrow afternoon for a picnic in the park.

A.B.

It was enough to incite a fresh burst of fury through her. The man was so exasperatingly arrogant. No apology. No humility at all. He simply assumed she would be unable to refuse him. In his defense, she guessed he could have mistaken her body language as something other than what she was portraying. But he was a rake! Well, perhaps not a rake. He wasn’t nearly as debauched as other men in the ton, but surely he knew the signs of a woman who wanted him! She bit her lip in thought.

Ah! The perfect revenge. Let him experience the rejection he so callously doled out. She would repudiate his every advance. Let him lose his bet. What was it to her?

With great aplomb, Bridget took a sheet of stationery from her desk and penned a reply to the viscount.

Regrettably, I am unable to accompany you on a picnic tomorrow.

I shall be taking my lesson on the pianoforte.

B.D.

She folded the note and slipped it into an envelope.

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