Married in Haste Read Online Free PDF

him to keep quiet,” Brenn muttered.
    But Sir Charles was determined to go where angels feared to tread. “If it hadn’t been for Merton’s quick thinking,” he told Miss Hamlin, “I and a good score of men would have been French cannon fodder. He took out the cannon himself and then carried me across his shoulders back to camp. No one realized he was wounded until later.”
    Miss Hamlin tilted her head up at Brenn. “You are indeed a hero, my lord.”
    Brenn felt an unfamiliar heat steal up his neck. Why was Sir Charles doing this? He could handle Miss Hamlin himself without his war exploits being bandied about.
    “A hero who blushes,” she added softly. “I’ve never seen a man act embarrassed when being publicly praised. You are a novelty, my lord.”
    He was going to respond with some witty remark but at that moment, her attention strayed toward the dance floor. Her eyes narrowed.
    Brenn glanced in the direction she looked while Sir Charles prattled on about the battle, oblivious to the fact he had lost his audience.
    It appeared Miss Hamlin was frowning at Captain Draycutt, a pompous cavalry officer whom Brenn had dismissed earlier in the evening as more flash than substance. The man finished his dance with Miss Carrollton and led her over to a table for a glass of punch.
    Brenn had met Miss Carrollton the evening before. The girl’s family was practically bankrupt. All she had to offer a man were her looks and, though she was attractive, she didn’t stir his blood the way Miss Hamlin did.
    Few women had.
    He wasn’t going to lose this fabulous prize to a cavalry officer.
    Reaching for the handle of the terrace door, he yanked it open and whisked Miss Hamlin outside. He took grim satisfaction in closing the door on Sir Charles’s still talking face. The man frowned, shrugged, and then, with a roll of his eyes to wish Brenn well, wandered off to lose himself into the crowded ballroom.
    Although it was late spring the temperature was chilly, so they were alone. The air smelled of rich earth and growing things.
    Chinese paper lanterns strung from the corner of the house across to the trees in the garden cast yellow and red patterns on the ground around them. Their light reflected off the gold thread stars in the material of Miss Hamlin’s dress. The stars mirrored the ones in the clear sky above them—and for a second, Brenn’s imagination took over.
    She looked like a goddess come to earth. No, not a goddess, a Titaness.
    The minutes and seconds of his life seemed to have all led to this very moment. He wanted to capture it
    —to never forget the smell of wax candles burning in fresh air, the coolness of the night against his skin, the nuances in her expression and movement.
    A shiver ran through her.
    “Is it too cold?” he asked. “Shall we return inside?”
    “No,” she answered. “I’m a hearty English girl. The night air isn’t bothering me.” She ran her hand along the stone balustrade, walking its length away from the door and the sounds of music and laughter bleeding through from the other side.
    Brenn followed her. She was a lure, drawing him toward the peaceful shadows of the terrace’s far corner. A statue of Diana, the huntress, stood there.
    Miss Hamlin lightly touched the shoulder of the statue before facing him. “Why do I have the feeling that Sir Charles was most anxious that you and I not have a moment’s conversation alone?”
    “He’s afraid I’ll make a fool of myself and make an offer for you.”
    Her eyes brightened with interest. “Does he have a reason for fear?”
    Brenn laughed. He sat on the edge of the balustrade, taking his weight off of his bad leg. “That would be a fool’s act, Miss Hamlin. I pray you don’t think me a fool.”
    Her lips made a small moue of disappointment. “And here I’d hoped you would be like the others and prone to wild declarations.”
    She was all but inviting him to make an offer. Poor Redgrave, Brenn thought. He’d been out