All About Passion Read Online Free PDF Page A

dinner.
    "He'll be back tomorrow morning to hear your answer. What should I tell him?" That she didn't believe him.
    Francesca met Charles's earnest gaze. "Tell him… that I need three days—seventy-two hours from this afternoon—to consider his proposal. Given the suddenness and… unexpected nature of his offer, I must think things over carefully. Three afternoons from now, I'll say yes or no." Charles's brows had risen; by the time she'd finished speaking he was nodding. "An excellent notion. You may reassure yourself in your own mind, then give him—" Charles grimaced. "Give me, I suspect, your answer."
    "Indeed." Francesca stood, determination rising within her. "I will discover what answer I'm comfortable with—and then he may have it."
    It was nearly noon the next day when Gyles once again rode up the Rawlings Hall drive. Shown into the study, he saw Charles rounding the desk, his hand outstretched and a smile on his face. Not that he'd expected anything else. Shaking hands, he consented to sit.
    Resuming his seat, Charles met his gaze. "I've spoken to Francesca at some length. She was not averse to your proposal, but she did ask for a period of time—three days—in which to consider her answer." Gyles felt his brows rise. The request was eminently reasonable; what surprised him was that she'd made it.
    Charles was regarding him with concern, unable to read his expression. "Is that a problem?"
    "No." Gyles considered, then refocused on Charles.
    "While I wish to settle this matter expeditiously, Miss Rawlings's request is impossible to deny. Marriage is, after all, a serious business—a point I wished to emphasize."
    "Indeed. Francesca is not a flighty girl—her feet are planted firmly on the ground. She engaged to give a simple yes or no on the third afternoon from yesterday."
    "Two days from today." Gyles nodded and stood. "Very well. I'll remain in the area and will call again on the afternoon of the agreed day."
    Charles rose and they shook hands. "I understand," Charles said as he walked Gyles to the door, "that you saw Francesca yesterday."
    Gyles halted and looked at his host. "Yes, but only briefly." She must have seen him watching her and been artful enough to give no sign.
    "Nevertheless. Even a glimpse would be enough. She's a captivating young lady, don't you think?" Gyles considered Charles. He was a softer, gentler man than himself; mild-mannered ladies were doubtless more his style. Gyles returned Charles's smile. "I believe Miss Rawlings will fill my countess's shoes admirably."
    He turned to the door; Charles opened it. Bulwer was waiting to show him out. With a nod, Gyles left. He elected to stroll to the stables as he had the day before. Ambling down the paths of the parterre, he scanned his surroundings.
    He'd told Charles he had no wish to meet his bride-to-be formally. There was nothing to be gained from such an exercise as far as he could see. However, now that she'd stipulated a three-day wait…
    It might be wise to meet the young lady who had calmly requested three days in which to consider him. Him and his exceedingly generous offer. That smacked of a resolution he found odd in a woman of Francesca Rawlings's character. No matter that he'd only glimpsed her, he was an expert at judging women. Yet he'd clearly misjudged his intended in one respect; it seemed prudent to check that she harbored no further surprises.
    Fate was smiling on him—she was walking beside the lake, alone but for a bevy of spaniels. Head up, spine straight, she was striding away from him, the dogs gamboling about her feet. He set out in pursuit. He drew near as she rounded the end of the lake. "Miss Rawlings!" She stopped and turned. The shawl she clutched about her shoulders fluttered, its blue highlighting her pale blond hair, fine, straight, and drawn back in a loose chignon. Wafting wisps framed a sweet face, pretty rather than beautiful. Her most memorable feature was her eyes, very pale blue edged by blond