A Touch of Passion Read Online Free PDF Page A

his missive he wants to fulfill at least one of those three options, that of lover. Why else would he meet you here?”
    “Perhaps to simply get to know me more intimately, and not in the physical sense. I mean me the woman.” Although she hoped for more.
    Portia suddenly realized she was playing with the strands of pearls at her throat. They’d been a present from Grayson, given to her as she was recovering from her near-death fever shortly after the cliff incident.
    It was after her illness that she’d made a vow to follow her heart. Her sickbed experience also made her see through Grayson’s external façade of charm and gaiety.
    As she lay recuperating, she’d thought a lot about that day on the cliffs. When Grayson and the boy had made it to safety, clambering over the edge onto firm land, Grayson had handed the boy into her care. A look briefly flashed across his handsome face, an expression of anger and regret, as if he was disappointed he’d risked his life and survived. Then he’d bowed, swung onto his steed, completely ignoring the sudden surge of men who’d arrived with Rose, and without a word ridden off.
    She’d watched him ride away until he was a dot on the horizon. However, the resigned look he’d flashed her in that moment remained embedded in her head. All the way home she’d tried to understand what she’d witnessed. What she did understand, and very clearly, was that the instant he’d started climbing down the cliff her heart had fallen under his spell. Why had she not noticed how handsome he was, how brave, how dashing? She doubted any of her brothers would have risked life and limb for anyone. He rescued the boy for no reward, later refusing to talk about it or receive any thanks.
    It wasn’t until years later, after she’d witnessed several of Grayson’s heroic escapades, cumulating in his medals for bravery at Waterloo, that she’d understood his expression. It was the look of a man who did not care whether he lived or died.
    A shiver shimmered through her, as though a ghost had entered the carriage. Since his return from the war she’d seen the same look in him. She’d overheard Philip telling her mother that Grayson was consumed with guilt over the burns Lord Markham had received while they fought together at the battle of Waterloo. Grayson had come to Flagstaff Castle for Christmas, and though he’d been friendly, he was not attentive. He’d shown no desire to form any kind of romantic attachment.
    However, the day before he left, they had ridden over the estate together, and found themselves at the cliffs. She reminded him of that day many years ago. He smiled and said, “We are no longer the same people. Look at you, you’re beautiful, and all grown up. Why have you never married?”
    His question had surprised her. She’d taken a deep breath, deciding to be honest. “The right man has never asked.”
    He’d given her one of his smiles, a smile that made respectable women leave their morals in their closets, along with most of their clothes. “Perhaps it’s time the right man took notice.” With those cryptic words he’d kicked his stallion and raced off, as if he knew she’d need time alone to process his words. Did he mean himself, or was it simply a general statement?
    Tonight, when his note had been delivered to her at Rose’s townhouse, hope had surged. He had requested that she meet him at the gate to Vauxhall Gardens. He had something urgent to ask her. Was he embarking on a courtship? If so, why had he suddenly summoned her? And why meet her here, in Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, of all places? She had to admit that excitement flared in her at the idea of being in the pleasure gardens with Grayson.
    She stared uncertainly at the crowded street. She risked her reputation and that of her family if she entered the dimly lit gardens. But surely Grayson’s intentions were honorable; he was the finest gentleman she knew. However, the niggle in her brain that she