Caroline and the Captain: A Regency Novella Read Online Free PDF Page A

elsewhere, Nicholas loped along beside her.
    They ducked into the shelter of the arched roof, and stood gazing at each other. Nicholas took out his handkerchief and offered the cambric square to her.
    She declined his offer with a shake of her head, pushing back a wet lock of hair and settling her bonnet on her head, the soggy daisies adorning it now drooping sadly.
    Nicholas wiped the rain from his face, congratulating himself on his remarkable restraint in resisting the temptation to say he told her so. He should be angered by this ridiculous display of bad manners, but was distracted by the thin muslin of her gown clinging to her body, exposing the jutting shape of her full breasts. His gaze roamed to where the damp dress pressed against her slim thighs outlining an enticing curve at the base of her stomach. His body tightened and he looked away disconcerted. With all that had happened, he hadn’t even thought about sex for far too long.
    “You’ll catch cold.” Unsettled by his inappropriate thoughts, he shrugged out of his coat and placed it around her shoulders, wondering if she’d reject this gesture also.
    “Thank you.” She was so slender she almost wrapped his coat around herself twice. He regretted losing that beguiling view.
    “I suppose you know why I’ve come,” he said, determined to get to the point before they both came down with pneumonia.
    Her damp, dark-blonde hair framed a heart-shaped face, and a pair of intelligent grey eyes studied him. “Father did mention it.”
    “Then we should talk about it, don’t you think?”
    “I expect so,” she said without a shred of enthusiasm.
    “First, there is something I need to ask you,” Nicholas said.
    “And there is something I need to tell you,” she countered in a firm tone.
    Nicholas bowed. “Ladies first.”
    “No, it might be better if you go first,” she said.
    Cold and uncomfortable, he was quickly losing patience. He ran his hands through his wet hair, pushing it back off his face and sending a shaft of cold water sliding down his neck. “Did you love my brother?”
    Her eyes widened. “Love? No, not in the way you mean. I was very fond of him. He was my best friend.”
    “He was that kind of man wasn’t he?” Nicholas smiled. A rush of affection was followed swiftly by deep grief.
    “Yes, he was gentle,” she said quietly observing him. “I understand why you loved him.”
    “Now your question.” Nicholas expected it to be something about the terms of the marriage, whether they would spend each Season in London, that sort of thing.
    “I want you to know something about me, before you ask for my hand. But I have to swear you to secrecy, my lord.”
    Such drama, could he live with it? At twenty perhaps, but not now at nine-and-twenty. “You have my promise.”
    Surprised, he watched as her eyes darkened. She took a moment, obviously struggling with framing the words.
    “I am not a maiden, my lord.”
    The air left Nicholas’ lungs with a whoosh. He almost staggered back. It was the last thing he’d expected from this precise, prickly miss. “Not . . .”
    “Should we marry; you would not be the first.” Her lips trembled.
    Not surprising that she was distressed. It had hit him like a punch to the jaw. “Was it, George?” he asked in dismay. It seemed the prospect of them marrying was quashed. He could not follow George into the matrimonial bed.
    “No!” She shook her head. “George would never have…. I don’t intend to go into the details. Ever. Only to say it was years ago. You shall have to accept that it is so, and if you can’t…well.” She shrugged her shoulders and moved to lean against a marble column and stare across the rain-beaten water.
    He knew her to be three-and-twenty. When had some bounder taken her maidenhead? Did the affair occur in London? Some rake she had a crush on? It happened. Chaperones sometimes failed in their duty. But why tell him of it? Her honesty was breathtaking. Or was it a