Castles Ever After 02 Say Yes to the Marquess Read Online Free PDF Page A

you do, Rafe Brandon.”
    “I know this much. You won’t turn me away.”
    Rafe watched her carefully.
    It wasn’t any hardship, to watch her carefully. But he had extra reason today.
    Clio might not have made her final decision on marriage, but it was clear she didn’t want another pair of houseguests right now.
    Another trio of houseguests, if one counted Ellingworth.
    He took the lead from Bruiser and crouched beside the dog. He was so old, he was completely deaf, but Clio didn’t know that.
    “Not to worry, Ellingworth.” He scratched the dog behind the ear. “Miss Whitmore is a model of etiquette and generosity. She wouldn’t turn an old, defenseless dog out into the cold.” He slid a glance at Clio. “Now would she?”
    “Hmmph. I thought champions are supposed to fight fair.”
    “We’re not in a boxing ring. Not that I can see.” After a moment’s thought, he decided to take a chance. “Is that a new frock?”
    “I . . .” She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them. “I don’t see that it matters.”
    Oh, it mattered. He knew these things mattered.
    Rafe might not know a damn thing about planning weddings, but he knew a thing or two—or twelve—about women.
    This was all Clio needed. A bit of attention. Appreciation. She’d been left waiting for so many years, she was feeling unwanted. Well, that was bollocks. Just look at her. Any man who didn’t want this woman would be a damned fool.
    Piers wasn’t a fool.
    Unfortunately, neither was Rafe.
    “The color suits you,” he said.
    And it did. The green played well with the gold of her hair, and the silk fit her generous curves like a dream. The kind of dream he shouldn’t be having.
    He rose to his feet, letting his gaze sweep her one last time, from toes to crown.
    By the time their eyes met, the flush on her cheeks had deepened to a ripe-berry hue. He smiled a little. Clio Whitmore’s complexion had more shades of pink than a draper’s warehouse. Every time Rafe thought he’d seen them all, he managed to tease out one more.
    Just imagine teasing her in bed.
    No, you idiot. Don’t. Don’t imagine it.
    But as usual, his thoughts were three paces ahead of his judgment. The image erupted in his mind’s eye, as unbidden as it was vivid. Clio, breathless. Naked. Under him. Stripped of all her good manners and inhibitions. Begging him to learn her every secret shade of pink.
    Rafe blinked hard. Then he took that mental image and filed it away under Pleasant-Sounding Impossibilities. Right between “flying carriage” and “beer fountain.”
    He looked nowhere but her eyes. “We’ll send in our things, then.”
    “I haven’t said yes.”
    “You haven’t said no.”
    And she wouldn’t. They both knew it. No matter how much she disliked Rafe, no matter how much she wanted him gone . . . Her conscience wouldn’t let her turn him out.
    Her little sigh of surrender stirred him more than it ought. “I’ll have the maids prepare two more rooms.”
    He nodded. “We’ll be in once I’ve put up my gelding.”
    “We have grooms to do that,” she said. “I was fortunate that all my uncle’s housestaff stayed on.”
    “I always put up my own horse.”
    Rafe walked his gelding toward the carriage house for a good brushing down. Whenever he came in from a hard ride—or a hard run, a hard bout—he needed a task like this to calm him. All that energy didn’t just dissipate into the air.
    And tonight, he needed a private word with a certain someone. A certain someone who’d just up and declared that his name was Montague.
    “What the devil was all that about?” he asked, as soon as Clio was out of earshot. “Who’s this Montague person? We agreed you’d act as my valet.”
    “Well, that was before I saw this place! Cor, look at it.”
    “I’ve looked at it.”
    The castle was impressive, Rafe had to admit. But he’d seen finer. He’d been raised in finer.
    “I want a proper room in that thing,” Bruiser said, gesturing at