Julie Garwood Read Online Free PDF Page B

distressed frown. “Oh, have I made the bandage too tight?”
    “N-no, it’s fine,” Mr. Smith stammered.
    “You must understand that I personally do not care if Brummell cuts me or not. London holds no promise for me. Still, I do worry that Charity will be affected by my behavior and possibly hurt and I don’t wish to see her humiliated. Yes, that is a worry.”
    “I have the feeling that Beau Brummell will not cut you or your cousin,” Bradford predicted.
    “You’re far too beautiful to be discarded,” Mr. Smith interjected.
    “Being attractive should have nothing to do with being accepted. It is what is inside a person that matters,” Caroline advised.
    “Besides that noble fact, I hear that he values his grays exceedingly,” Bradford commented, his tone dry.
    “His grays?” Caroline asked, clearly confused.
    “His horses,” Bradford answered. “I’ve no doubt that you’d try to shoot them if he dared to cut you or your cousin.”
    His expression looked serious but his eyes had turned warm and teasing. “I would never!” Caroline said.
    He smiled then and Caroline shook her head. “You jest,” she stated. “There,” she said, turning back to Mr. Smith. “I’ve finished. Keep this medicine and have the bandage changed once a day. And don’t allow anyone to bleed you, for heaven’s sake. You’ve lost enough blood.”
    “Another one of your mama’s practices?” Mr. Smith inquired with a good deal of suspicion in his voice.
    Caroline nodded as she moved out of the carriage. When she stood outside, she turned and propped Mr. Smith’s legs on the opposite seat, next to Bradford’s looming form. “I fear you’re correct, Mr. Smith. Your lovely boots look ruined. And your tassels are coated with blood. Perhaps if you wash them with champagne,the way Mrs. Maybury explained that Brummell does, then they’ll be just the thing again.”
    “That is a most guarded secret,” Mr. Smith decreed with indignation.
    “It can’t be much of a secret,” Caroline replied. “For Mrs. Maybury knew all about it and it appears you do too.” She didn’t wait for a reply to her logical statement and turned to Bradford. “You’ll see to your friend now?”
    “We’ve found the groom,” Charity called out just as Bradford nodded to Caroline. “He has a bump on his head the size of a church steeple, but he’s coming around.”
    Caroline nodded and said, “Good day to you both. Benjamin, we must go now. Mr. Bradford will tend to Mr. Smith.”
    The black man said something to Caroline in a language Bradford had never heard before but he knew, from the way that Caroline smiled and nodded, that she understood perfectly.
    And then they were gone. Neither gentleman said a word as they watched the black-haired nymph lead her cousin down the road. The Duke of Bradford jumped out of the carriage for a longer look while his friend stuck his head out the window and also watched the retreat.
    Bradford found himself smiling. The little cousin with the blonde curls was talking to Caroline, and the silent black man, with his pistol drawn, followed behind, obviously intent on seeing to their protection.
    “My God, I believe I’ve contracted the king’s madness,” the injured man stated. “The chit hails from the Colonies,” he added with a hint of a sneer in his voice, “and still I find I’m infatuated.”
    “Get over it,” Bradford advised, his voice curt. “I want her.” His tone didn’t suggest an argument, and his friend wisely agreed with several vigorous nods. “I don’t care if she is from the Colonies or not.”
    “What a stir you’ll cause if you pursue her. If her father isn’t titled … Well, it simply isn’t done. Remember your position.”
    “And you therefore condemn it?” Bradford asked the question with quiet interest.
    “I do not. I would support your cause. She saved my life.”
    Bradford raised an eyebrow and his friend hurried to answer his unspoken question. “She came