The Perils of Pursuing a Prince (Desperate Debutantes) by Julia London

Author:Julia London [London, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, Romance, Historical, Regency, Contemporary Fiction, Historical Romance
ISBN: 1416516166
Amazon: B000OT8GQM
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2007-04-16T18:30:00+00:00

Sixteen

S everal days passed before the rain let up enough to allow the roads to dry, and at the first opportunity, Rhodrick rode to Rhayader.

As he returned home later that afternoon, he pushed his horse hard as he tried in vain to outride the absurdly tender thoughts about Greer Fairchild that had attached themselves to him like a bunch of leeches. He‟d begun to dream of her rather prolifically of late. Of himself, too—only in his dreams he had no scar and Miss Fairchild desired him.

Neither of them had spoken of the intimate and scalding encounter they had shared after their chess game, but she‟d avoided him for a few days afterward. Eventually, she came around again—when he decreed she would dine with him or go hungry—and he‟d had the privilege of watching her at his dinner table, listening to her ebullient accounts of her walks about the grounds before being chased in by rain, or her chance meetings with some of the more colorful characters that worked on his estate.

He listened to her reminisce about the Season in London, and learned that when one debutante had as many as four silk ball gowns, that was quite remarkable. He heard all about the Ladies‟

Beneficent Society, and how Miss Fairchild, in the course of her work with that charitable endeavor, found it more rewarding than she‟d anticipated.

When she tired of talking about London, she amused herself by accusing him of any number of transgressions. He did not feed Cain and Abel enough, they were too thin. There were parts of the garden that were in desperate need of repair. She thought Lulu, a housemaid, needed more time away to visit her family.

Rhodrick rarely spoke—there was no need. Miss Fairchild seemed intent on filling each supper hour with her bright chatter while he admired her lovely face and her elegant, expressive hands, while idle thoughts of the many ways he would like to make love to her flitted through his mind.

But as soon as the supper hour was done, Miss Fairchild would disappear, leaving him alone once again.

Rhodrick spurred his horse faster still, reining him sharply right and recklessly leading him to jump a rotted stone fence, determined to take the fields instead of the road. It was harder riding, but with every jarring step, every jolt, he hoped to dislodge the feeling of useless desire implanted in him—or at the very least, batter it into bloody submission.

But if he could not defeat the monster in him alone, then he would seek safety in numbers.

Therefore, he had invited the Awbreys, and their guests, Lord and Lady Pool, visiting from Aberystwyth, to dine at Llanmair this evening.

In the courtyard at Llanmair, a groomsman ran out to greet him, and was startled by the winded horse. When Rhodrick climbed down, the lad turned a wide-eyed look at his mud-caked back and boots.

“Double his oats after you‟ve rubbed him down,” Rhodrick said in Welsh, and strode into the foyer, passing the gilded mirror he had come to despise.

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