Her Favoured Captain Read Online Free PDF

Lieutenant Bryant
crouched, snatched at a rope and leapt from boat to a step, his feet soon
submerged in swirling waters. Similarly a crewman near to her captain, too,
leapt ashore rope in hand. Between the pair they hauled the boat closer to the
steps. With oars raised on landward side her captain slid over the side of the
boat, his feet below the waterline, and she then lifted safe above turbulent
flow.
       “Tomorrow, same time?” she whispered, as he
deposited her safe on dry upper step.
       “Tomorrow,” his reply, a smile and fleeting
kiss to her hand.
       She fled, not wanting to get soaked to the
skin, not wanting to see him rowed away from her. What had she done in letting
her heart rule her head? He had no name, her buccaneer, and what of his plan
for her to stall Moorby on announcing their betrothal? And what connection in
high place had he spoken of? And why would this person even consider saving Ned
from disgrace of unpaid gambling debts?
       With first spots of rain felt on face, she
was glad the house was now reached. She flung the door wide, but several trunks
and two pairs of manly boots standing in the hall caused her heart to plummet.
They had visitors, or a visitor. Pray God it was not Moorby.

Chapter Four
    ~
     
    It was fair to admit Moorby
had kept her amused with gossip from Penzance, but his paunch, podgy jowls, and
slobbering lips utterly repulsive. His hand offered in escort to the dining
hall felt uncommon large and beastlike with hair. She could not, did not want
to imagine herself abed and in his arms his wife.
       To her chagrin Moorby proved to be the
perfect gentleman, his attentions upon her throughout dinner extreme polite,
and almost caring in concern for her loss. Ned, though, turned severe in
countenance at her rebelliousness in mention of Tobias, but why should she keep
quiet about it. Never mind his guilt over Tobias, and Moorby’s visit. She was
no fool, and would not have him treat her as such.
       Having had prior engagement at a nearby
friend’s country estate, Ned had supposedly encountered Moorby there and had
seen fit to invite the man over to Penhavean Hall, both then to escort her to
London. It was quite obvious Ned and Moorby had planned for this day, and she
then compromised into spending time with the man now her intended.
       With the two men settled in the library for
the past couple of hours and the door still shut, it was right to assume
business was yet to be concluded. No doubt her reluctance to accept the earl’s
hand in marriage unless certain criteria could be met had probably raised an
eyebrow or two, but would he agree to a legal document drawn as proof of his
honour to rid Ned of outstanding debts?
       The instant the doors to the library were flung
wide she sensed Moorby had agreed to her terms, for he swept toward her with
silver-topped cane in hand and performed a sweeping bow. His periwig slipped
forward a little, yet he pushed it back seeming not the least embarrassed.
“Delightful lady, you drive a hard wager, if I say so myself.” She stifled a
giggle, the wig now at slight tilt. Unable to resist the urge to straighten it,
she leapt to her feet and did just that. The earl’s face turned to that of
amused delight. “Well I do declare the lady hath the motherly touch about her
already,” he said, his attention redirected to Ned. “What say you, your
lordship?”
       Ned’s scowl was most unexpected and she
could not make him out for he seemed less than pleased by the exchange in the
library. What had happened? Why did Ned appear so gloomy? Fair brooding for
want of better description. “Ned?”
       “Yes, dear fellow, what ails you in this
time of celebration?” quizzed the earl, and much to her vexation his sweaty
palm clasped her fingers tight as a clamp and raised it to spittle moist lips.
“You are content with our arrangement, my lady, are you not?”
       Ned drew breath as though about to speak.
He then exhaled,