A Woman of Passion Read Online Free PDF

“Lady Frances bade me choose a mount for tomorrow's hunt, but I haven't yet decided if I'll join the chase.”
    He closed the distance between them, took her arm, and led her down a row of horse stalls, in the opposite direction from the girls. “Do you ride well?”
    “I like to ride astride,” she confided.
    He stopped walking and stared down at her. Already aroused, he found her words acting upon him as an aphrodisiac. The serious look on her face told him she was not being deliberately provocative, she was simply stating a fact, but her facts were exciting him in a very primal way. He looked in to a few more stalls. “You'll have to ride sidesaddle tomorrow. Here's a little mare with clean lines that will serve you very well.”
    Bess saw that the chestnut horse was undistinguished in any way, and her glance strayed to more showy animals.
    “Wear green tomorrow,” he said.
    Taken aback by his remark, Bess turned to look at him. He was gazing at her with an expression of intense interest.
    She loved green because it provided such a flattering contrast to her fiery-red hair. But why did
he
want her to wear green? “Is green your favorite color, sir?”
    “Green will blend in with the trees to make us invisible.”
    “Oh!” She gasped in surprise, suddenly comprehending why he had suggested the unremarkable mount for her. A small flame of hot anger kindled inside her as it occurred to Bess that he was well-versed in such matters as arranging clandestine assignations with women. Was Rogue Cavendish a practiced womanizer? Was she out of her depth? Her eyes moved over his broad chest, across his wide shoulders, and came to rest on his sensual mouth. Then she wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by this powerful, attractive man. Suddenly, Bess couldn't bear the fact that other women knew, while she did not. But she felt her anger subside as she realized a man should be experienced in these matters. What good would he be otherwise?
    Lifting her eyes to his, she saw that he was amused. He was so attractive, he could probably have his pick of any woman in Court circles, yet for some reason his fancy had settled on her. Clearly he had seduction in mind, and she'd be willing to bet he was a man who enjoyed the chase. The enormous challenge he represented was too much for Bess to resist. The corners of her mouth lifted. This might be a game to him, but she was deadly serious. She wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her, possibly more, though not for the same reasons. Cavendish would be an extraordinary feather in her cap.
    “I've decided to join the chase after all, sir.”
    “Elizabeth”—he said her name like a caress—“you may call me William.”
    “William,” she said slowly, testing the name on her lips, and liking the taste of it. Then she tossed her curls and pertly added, “You may call me Mistress Hardwick.”

T HREE
    A s Bess helped Lady Zouche dress for dinner, the older woman fretted, “I've no notion what I can wear tomorrow.”
    “I packed your riding habit and a pair of your favorite boots, Lady Margaret.”
    “You are so competent, Bess. However did you think of it?”
    “Your daughters insisted I pack theirs. They said everyone rides at Chelsea.”
    “I finally learned the reason Frances moved upriver this week. The king has moved the Court to Hampton, and she was afraid of missing something.”
    “Hampton Court Palace,” Bess said with reverence. “How I would love to see it.”
    “And so you shall, my dear. We are going there on Thursday. Little Lady Jane Grey has been invited to reside there and be tutored with the royal children. Frances wants to inspect their apartments and living quarters. She isn't sure if she will let her go this year or wait until next.”
    “Lady Jane is very young,” Bess said, trying to contain the excitement she felt.
    “She's the same age as Prince Edward, and the cousins are very fond of each other. The king thinks his son would benefit